


Surrender Yourself (let me help)

by maridoll



Category: One Piece
Genre: Assessment of Mental State, Hallucinations, Hyperventilation, Injury Recovery, M/M, Major Allergic Reaction, Mental Breakdown, Mental Coercion, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, discussion of trauma, ill tag tw as they come up, probably inacurate depictions of schizophrenia but i have chosen my own grave at this point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:20:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 57,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21738985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maridoll/pseuds/maridoll
Summary: sabo's discharge from division nineteen comes abruptly and swiftly, after five years of service.his return to ace, both mentally and emotionally, takes a little longer.
Relationships: Portgas D. Ace/Sabo
Comments: 37
Kudos: 117





	1. like a ghost story

**Author's Note:**

> ive been working on this one for... a long time. i keep starting and scraping and restarting, but i made it one of my nano fics this year and now that im sitting on 30k i think im committed to this version?? fingers crossed.
> 
> i started this the first handful of times back when i was simultaneously working on a fic that needed constant research. this was my backburner story for it, and bc of it, i told myself i could just write what i wanted without feeling like i always needed to make sure everything was accurate and so forth. ive held myself to that rule since. now bc its me i still look up some stuff, but not nearly as much as i should, and ive embraced that at this point. this is what i try and work on when i need a break from everything else, when i just want to sit down and write without a care in the world. 
> 
> this one does deal with a lot of really sensitive subject matters though, and while ive tried to hold true to what they entail and do them justice, i realize im probably going to make errors here and there. just ignore them and move on. if anything is so glaringly wrong you cant stand it you can tell me.. but tbh i probably wont change it if its intricate enough to the scene/plot in general.
> 
> i mentioned i had over 30k but im not gonna promise a steady update schedule or anything. this is still a back burner fic and im nowhere near where i want to be content-wise which means this is going to be... long. so long. too long. i can at least promise all the chapters will be around the same length, so 3-5k. the exceptions will come, but they're few and far between, and rn i only have 2 in my current draft. 
> 
> ill post content warnings before each chapter as they apply. when i figure out the rating ill update that too.

He blinks.

Nothing changes.

He’s still in the brightly-lit room, at the table that barely stood on four legs, across from an older man dressed in the same drab jacket Sabo had wrapped around his waist. The scratches of a bad pen are the only sound in the room apart from the faint hum coming from the lights. Sabo can’t read the man’s name off the tag, no matter how many chances he gives himself. 

Sabo purses his lips and tries not to shift in his chair. He settles for tapping a leg against the ground, hoping the extra noise isn’t too much of a disturbance. Eventually the man’s pen dies, and as he’s rolling it onto the back of one of the forms to try and revive it, he finally speaks to Sabo again.

“You have someone to stay with, when you get back? Anyone you can call to at least pick you up?”

His lips quirk up, but there’s no amusement there. “Maybe. If his number’s still the same.”

From beside him, Koala huffs and stops twisting her short hair with her fingers to cross her arms over her chest. He looks up at her to see her glaring down at him. “You idiot. He wouldn’t have changed it while you were away.”

He hums. “Maybe.”

The man finally revives his pen and glances up at Sabo’s words. He looks to the space beside Sabo, where the blond was looking, and his brows furrow. “You said maybe twice, son.”

Sabo blinks. He looks back to the man, who stares at him for another moment before going back to scratch on the forms. It’s not long after that he’s passing them across the table. “Sign these,” he tells Sabo. “After you’re done, we can see about that phone call.”

-

The waiting room he’s placed in is unnaturally cold, and he throws his issued jacket back on after taking a seat. He’d been handed a small cell with a sim chip, one for a few international calls. 

He leans back, dropping the hand holding the phone to his lap and pushing his fingers through his hair with the other, moving his bangs back. His eye twitches, scarred skin around it itching. The phone is a deadweight. 

After a minute of sitting there, he sighs and opens the phone, dialing a number he knew from memory. He hesitates again, finger over the call button. It had been a long time. What if . . his number had changed? What would he do then?

Sabo shakes his head and calls the number before he can question himself further. The dialtone is loud in his ear, and he winces and lowers the phone to turn the volume down. When he brings it back up, he’s been redirected to voicemail. It’s a moment of panic before a familiar voice is sounding in his ear.

_“Hey, it’s Ace. Sorry I missed your call. Just leave a message and I’ll get back to-”_

He hangs up.

Sabo lets out a long sigh and lets the phone slip from his hands, leaning his head back against the bland-colored wall behind him. So. His number hadn’t changed. Even after all this time. That was comforting, at least.

After a minute to calm himself down, he redials the number.

“Come on, come on,” he mutters. “Pick up the damn phone. Please.”

His pleas are answered, because Ace’s voice is answering him a moment later, and it’s not the staticy version from an automated message. “Hello?”

“Ace.” He swallows, rolls his bottom lip between his teeth. “It’s-” 

“Sabo?” Ace interrupts him, voice catching. He says his name quietly, with an emotion he can’t quite identify. 

“Yeah. It’s me.”

Ace sucks in a breath and it’s very audible over the phone. “That explains the international call. Where are you?”

“I can’t say.”

“Oh. Right. Well, how are you?”

“I’m-” He stops. In the end, he doesn’t answer the question. “They’re sending me home.”

“Wha-When?”

“A week.” His lips quirk up. “I’m supposed to have someone pick me up from the airport. Would you-”

“I’ll be there,” Ace promises, and the conviction in his voice has Sabo’s breath stopped. 

“I thought . . .” He hesitates. “That. You might have changed your number.”

“Why would I do that?”

“It’s been a long time. Things can happen.”

“Sabo . .” Ace sighs. “If I _had_ changed it, who would you be calling now?”

He doesn’t answer.

“If I had changed it, how would you ever know?”

“Why didn’t you answer the first time?” he counters.

“Ah-” Ace laughs, a little sheepish. “I’m in class. But getting two international calls in a row is a little suspicious, so I stepped out to answer.”

Oh. “I should let you go, then. Let you get back.”

“No! You don’t have to. I mean, I can afford to talk more-”

“It’s okay, Ace.” He smiles, finally. For the first time that day. For the first time in a while, actually. “I’ll see you in a week.”

“Okay.” He can picture him nodding, black hair moving past his chin, with the motion. Or, was it longer now? Shorter? His next words break him out of the thoughts. “See you then. Promise.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Ace.”

-

“You get in contact?”

“Yeah.” He hands the phone back to the clerk, glancing around the space behind the counter. She takes it and types something into a small computer. It’s silent for a minute while she types, and he tries tapping his fingers to give himself something to do, but she glares at him until he stops.

“Name?”

“Ace Portgas.”

“Spell it.”

“P-O-R-T-G-A-S.”

“Address?”

“Uh . .” He frowns. She glances up and eyes his expression.

“You don’t know?”

“It’s . . He has an unconventional family? I’m almost positive he isn’t living with them anymore, but I don’t know where he is now.”

She nods, goes back to typing. “That’s fine. Can’t be helped.” She pauses for a moment before her next question. “Been a long time?”

“Five years,” he mutters.

She hums. “Well. Congratulations on going home, then.”

“Right.”

He isn’t . . sure about that. If he had a choice, he would definitely be staying.

But. Well. That was the problem, huh?

-

Here was the thing about Ace.

He was amazing. Steller, cool, a genius, a good role model, anything and everything you could imagine, all piled into one person. He was everything that Sabo wasn’t. And he was a pretty fantastic friend to have.

But that had been five years ago. They weren’t teenagers anymore, graduating from high school and, if you were Sabo, running away from your problems by joining the military because you still felt like you couldn’t live up to everything Ace had been-

Still was?

It felt weird. To say he was going back. More than just going to back to the country, but back to . . . him. Sabo never thought this would be happening. 

“You thought you’d spend all your time running around the desert?”

His head jerks up at the sound of the voice, and his internal musings dissipate as he’s met with the figure seated across from him.

“Dragon sent you home, didn’t he?” Lindbergh says, leaning back in his seat, resting his cheek in his hand. 

Sabo purses his lips to keep from replying. That wasn’t true. He wasn’t going home. He still didn’t really have a home. Maybe the closest he had had was Ace. Maybe the closest was Division Nineteen. But that was over with now.

Lindbergh inclines his head and Sabo turns his eyes away. It doesn’t last long. He’s unable to keep from looking back. This was one of the reasons why, after all.

It wasn’t like he was the only one on the plane. He couldn’t just reply to the apparition or risk looking crazy. Because that’s what the short soldier was -an apparition. He could believe that. Koala was real, Koala was still alive. He hadn’t watched Koala die in front of him, not like Lindbergh. 

“What, cat got your tongue?”

Sabo crosses his arms and turns his head away, closing his eyes for good measure. Not real not real not real. Just ignore him. He’ll go away. Maybe he could just . . sleep. It had been a long day already, and it would be a while until they touched ground. He wouldn’t have to worry about Ace or leaving Dragon’s division or seeing people he wasn’t supposed to see.

But sleep, as well, wasn’t kind to him either.

He wakes with a start, details of the dream leaving him before he can recall. His breathing is heavy, and he presses a hand to his heart, trying to calm down. A weight settles on his thighs and he looks up to see Lindbergh peering up at his face. He waves a hand in front of Sabo’s eyes.

“You okay?”

Sabo bares his teeth. “Stop it!” he hisses, and Lindbergh reels back, affronted. A hand settles on Sabo’s shoulder and he whips his head in that direction to see an attendant eyeing him carefully. 

“Sir? We’ve landed. You can get up now.”

He blinks, all the anger leaving him. They . . were here. He looks back, but his lap was empty. Lindbergh was gone. His eyes widen at what he must’ve looked like, and before the attendant can tell him again, he jumps up, grabs his bag, and shuffles out the room.

-

Ace sits in the airport terminal clutching his keys and his wallet and his phone and wondering how he made it past security with any of them. He’s also holding the bag of Ziprasidone, and it crinkles when he adjusts his grip, and there comes his dilemma.

Does he take his keys, trek out to his car, and put it away? Which he will need his ID and wallet for, when he reenters. Does he leave it here and continue browsing his phone until it dies and he’s forced to stare at the one clock on the far side of the wall? Does it even matter if it’s out and he has it, because Sabo is bound to know no one sitting here or arriving on his flight anyways, so who cares who sees it?

Sabo’s flight home has been delayed three times now. Ace tells Luffy not to wait anymore, because it was pushing eleven and the airport was a two hour drive from the apartment and he and Sabo really needed to talk over some stuff before he threw everyone at him all at once.

He sighs as he dumps everything in his lap and leaves only his phone in his hands. Fuck it. He’ll deal with it when it comes up, if it does. 

Even as he turns his phone back on, his mind keeps flashing back to the conversation he’d had, before he accepted Sabo’s prescription for him, because the blond was apparently his _dependant_ now, for the time being.

_Bad psych eval. Developed schizophrenia. Trouble during his last campaign. Sent home out of everyone’s best interests._

That told him enough. Sabo didn’t want to come home yet. He’d been forced to. He had to accept, whether he liked it or not.

He frowns. Did they give honorable discharges for medical leaves? Did this mean Sabo qualified for benefits? Was he finally gonna be able to pay off school now?

He shakes his head, focus zooming back in on his phone. That didn’t matter. None of it mattered now.

The only thing that mattered was seeing Sabo again.

Ace’s phone dies and he slumps fully in the chair. It takes him a full minute to pocket it, because that was one of his miscellaneous items he wouldn’t be using again that night.

He folds his legs up in the chair and turns to face the clock. Time to wait.

And wait.

The main side effect was tremors.

If Sabo started to have them, to the point he couldn’t function, or to the point where it was aggravating, he could be prescribed anti-tremor medication.

Ace picks up the bag again. It makes noise as he lifts it, and he freezes, resists looking around to see if anyone was watching.

It was just medication. No one knew what it was for. It wasn’t like they had any sort of stigma, either. Soldiers came home to medication all the time. This wasn’t unusual.

Ace bites down on his lip. It was only good for thirty days. Would Sabo want to go see a psychiatrist? Wasn’t like Ace could force him. And what was the other one? A psychotherapist? Sabo wasn’t really one to talk through his problems. Maybe that could’ve changed, not like Ace would know now.

The clock ticks. Ace feels his eyes droop. He doesn’t notice the bar above the door turn green, signaling the arrival of the flight.

-

He wakes to a weight on his back. He’s too drowsy to do anything about it, so he just lifts his head, shifts a little. The weight hums and vibrates with the sound, and Ace turns it over and over in his mind, still waking up.

“You’re awake now?” A voice says. Ace bobs his head. It takes him a whole two seconds to reply verbally.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Let’s- . . . go.”

Ace has already turned his head to catch sight of bedraggled blond locks, but he doesn’t feel his pulse race or his body stiffen like he thought he might. Mostly, he still just feels tired. He doesn’t miss the way Sabo cuts himself off, though. And Ace resolves himself, sitting up straighter, because if he was that reluctant to say it, then Ace would have to be the one to reassure him.

Sabo leans off of him, back still turned. It takes him a long time to turn his head to face Ace’s.

Ace breathes in, sharp and deep, and an unknown emotion tumbles through him, too quick to process, and then he’s pulled Sabo into his chest and everything in his lap goes tumbling to the floor, and he lets himself not care for one, two, three moments as he breathes Sabo in.

“Let’s go home,” he murmurs.

And, thank God, Sabo doesn’t stiffen in his hold or act oddly or try to convince him otherwise. He just, finally, puts his arms around Ace’s back and squeezes. “Okay,” he whispers, right into Ace’s chest, so quiet he’s barely audible.

They pull back and Ace collects his fallen objects with a blush of embarrassment while Sabo pulls on his pack. Ace doesn’t have to glance at it but once to tell it’s practically empty.

He holds up the prescription wrapper last. It’s loud in his grip. Sabo’s eyes zone in on it, when he turns around, and Ace sees the question form in his eyes.

“Your . . medication,” he mumbles.

“The Ziprasidone?” Sabo questions.

Ace just nods. Slowly, Sabo reaches out and takes the bag from his grip. He slides it into the side pouch on his pack meant to house a water bottle, then drops his arms again.

Ace looks around. Terminal three is far from empty, but still, he bites his lip, feeling conflicted. 

In the end, he just gestures for Sabo to follow him, and makes his way to the exit.

Their first problem arises in the parking lot. There’s not many cars, it being a civilian-only parking space, but Ace is still tired, and it’s dark, so he presses the unlock button on his car keys anyways to make finding it easy.

It lights up with a noise and Sabo stiffens behind him. Ace had barely turned his head to look back, and he just catches it. He turns back fully and drops the hand holding the keys. Sabo does his best to relax his hunched shoulders.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “It’s -we had cars out there. It’s just the noise. Sorry. I’ll-Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Ace says softly, because if the last five years have taught him anything at all, it’s patience. And that, he realizes, is going to be the thing he needs most, going forward.

Sabo nods, but Ace sees that he doesn’t believe it. He works to keep the frown off his face. 

They make it out to the car, and Ace sighs as he realizes he’d forgotten to put his charger in the seat. Again. He sets his dead phone on the console, then thinks for a moment and flips it over into a cupholder, screen facing down. He wasn’t going to risk letting the light hit it, reflect off of it-

Sabo sits his backpack in the floorboards and leans back in his seat with a sigh. His shoulders are still tense, muscle cords wound tight through his jacket. Ace watches for a moment, then reaches to put the key in the ignition. He starts the car and tried not to notice Sabo’s little jump as it comes to life, and inside, the lights switch on. Ace quickly turns them off.

“Seatbelt,” he murmurs, pulling out.

“Oh. Right.” Sabo turns to adjust it immediately. 

Ace makes short work in pulling out and onto a road, doing his best to relax. His thoughts turn briefly to school, because making the trip out here had thrown him for a loop, and he still needed to play catch-up for a project due the next week, and adjust his schedule to accommodate the rest.

He knew he probably shouldn’t sleep tonight in favor of working on school stuff, but he didn’t know how the rest of the night would play out just yet. Plus, like hell was he going to make Sabo feel like he was already a burden because Ace had to adjust his routine to fit him in. That wasn’t happening.

Words spill out from his mouth before he can think them through, because there were too many things they needed to talk about. “The doctor said your script is good for a month. You’ll have to see someone to get it renewed.”

Sabo doesn’t outwardly react, but it takes him a moment to respond. “I’m guessing I can’t just come back here?”

“ . . No,” Ace answers, his voice quieter. Sabo sighs.

“Okay. Thanks.”

“She said there are uh, side effects-”

“The tremors?”

Ace clamps his jaw shut. He nods instead, as he sees Sabo turn to stare at him from the corner of his eye. Then he looks back to the road, finally turning onto the highway that would take them home.

Sabo’s hands are in his lap. He’s fiddling with his fingers. Ace doesn’t miss the way his eyes move to catch each car that passes them, headlights flashing, or trained on every one that approaches. He shifts in his seat, and Ace speaks up again.

“It’s two hours back to the apartment,” he murmurs. “Just me, by the way. And no one else is there now.”

Sabo perks up. “Now?”

“Uh, well.” He purses his lips. “Luffy was there for a bit. But the flight got delayed, and then again, and he has to be up early tomorrow, so I just told him to go home.”

Sabo blinks at this. His head slowly slides to rest against the window. He hums. “Luffy, huh.”

“He missed you, y’know.” Ace’s voice is quiet.

“Me too,” Sabo mumbles.

Ace keeps trying to fill the silence with noise. “Have you eaten? We can stop somewhere.”

He glances to the clock on the dash. “Is anything open?”

“Sure. Twenty-four hour places all over now. I might have to stop for gas, anyway. We could grab something inside a station, if anything.”

Sabo opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Ace replays what he’d just said over in his head, then catches it. Of course. Sabo had always offered to pay for gas whenever Ace took him somewhere out of the way, especially since he couldn’t drive himself. Ace had even been trying to teach him, with varying results, but that all stopped when he ran off to join the military.

He stops that train of thought before it could continue.

“You don’t have to pay me back, Sab.” Not that he could, anyway. That’s why he hadn’t said anything yet.

It takes Sabo another moment to reply. “I’m not hungry,” he ends up saying. “If you want to stop, go for it. I’m okay, though.”

Ace shrugs. There was food at home. He’d force something on the blond later.

They don’t end up stopping for gas. Ace pulls into the small parking lot, grabs his dead phone, and turns the car off. Sabo steps out with his bag tossed over one shoulder. Ace would berate him for it, but it doesn’t seem heavy in the slightest, so he lets it pass.

He enters first, turns on the light, and then lets Sabo through. Ace shuts the door quietly, locks it, but when he turns back around, he still finds Sabo paused, eyeing him with a wary look. He blinks and the blond turns away again.

Ace moves up carefully and pushes on Sabo’s free shoulder, guiding him into the main room. He’s thankful the blond lets him. Once they’re through, he gestures to a door down the hall. “Go take a shower. I’ll lay some clothes out.”

Sabo drops his bag on a couch as he passes, murmuring his thanks. A moment later the bathroom door closes, and Ace sags where he stands.

You can stay as long as you want, he hadn’t said. You should probably stay for at least a month, just until you’ve adjusted, he hadn’t said.

I want you to stay, he hadn’t said.

There’s only one bed, he had said. Sabo had replied, in a bland voice, “okay”, and that had been the end of that. Ace leaves a towel and a change of clothes on the counter, then goes back to deposit Sabo’s backpack near the door to the bedroom. 

By the time he’s snuck into the kitchen to eat something, the shower is off. He takes Sabo’s place, scrubbing away the rest of the energy he’d had that day, and then makes his way back to his room.

He pauses in the doorway. Sabo was asleep, curled up on one side of the bed. The invitation was clear. Ace knows, from experience, Sabo would be sprawled out on the middle if he didn’t want him there. He’s be on the couch if he didn’t feel comfortable. But, instead, he’s here.

Ace feels a small smile finally grace his features. Maybe, some things hadn’t changed, after all this time. He slips under the blankets and doesn’t let himself think about anything else.


	2. break the mend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the last thing ill probably have time to post here before the year ends thats not a ss gift so. here you go.
> 
> edit;; im s o sorry i forgot to do this k so **tw for panic/ptsd attack:** start @ 'ace notices his hand is empty' and goes to the end of the scene.

Ace wakes up to his alarm, the one he forgot to reset for the weekend. He pops his eyes open, alert, and quickly reaches over to turn it off. “Sorry,” he says, turning back, and then stops.

Sabo wasn’t there.

Ace blinks, hard, and then moves to sit on his knees. The blankets were moved. The door was shut. 

He frowns, tries to convince himself Sabo was just in the bathroom.

But he’s clambering to his feet the next moment, footsteps a little harried, reaching for the door handle. The sun wasn’t even out yet. What would-

He pauses in the living room, gaze locked onto the light coming from the kitchen. Sabo looks up from the table, munching on a corner of a cracker. Ace’s gaze moves to the open package, half-gone already. He sighs, lets the tension drain away from his shoulders.

After another moment, Sabo moves his gaze away, crunching on another corner. Ace’s feet carry him towards the light.

“Your first meal back home and it’s a sleeve of crackers,” he murmurs, lips quirking up.

Sabo turns to face him again, expression pinched. “That a problem?” He pops the rest of the cracker into his mouth, immediately reaching for another. Ace finally drops into a seat, sighing in exasperation.

“At least you’re eating,” he admits. “Still, how boring.”

“I’ll ask for something extravagant later, if it’ll make you feel better,” Sabo mumbles. He takes one more cracker before twisting the bag.

Ace hums. “I did think about doing breakfast, but it depends how much longer I can sleep.” He stands, reaches out a hand to Sabo. “Join me?”

Sabo accepts the help up, his nose wrinkling. “I wouldn’t trust anything you make,” he says, flicking off the light as they move past. His hand tightens around Ace’s, the layout still unfamiliar in the dark. 

“I’ve actually gotten pretty decent these days,” Ace admits. He pushes the door open further and leads them both back over to the bed.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Sabo mumbles.

“Then I’ll show you later.”

This time, when Ace slips under the blankets, Sabo turns to face him. His eyes are barely open. Ace reaches out a hand, hesitant, when they slip shut and his breathing evens out. He stops himself from grabbing hold, then.

-

Sabo wakes up to Ace’s eyes on him. It’s very disorienting.

“Don’t you have school,” he rasps out, catching on to how much lighter the room was now. Ace’s expression, if possible, softens even more.

“Saturday,” he murmurs.

“Oh.”

“You still want breakfast?”

Sabo thinks on it for a bit. He’s not really hungry. Then again, his appetite had been shot for a long time now. Some days he had to force himself to eat something, to gain some sort of energy. Plus, it wasn’t like he had anything else to do. And he was already awake. There was no way his body would let him go back to sleep, not with the sun out.

“Okay.”

His eyes narrow, slightly. Ace bobs his head, shifting to rise from the sheets, and Sabo follows him with his eyes.

“How long have you been up?” he asks. He could tell. There was fluidity to Ace’s movements. He didn’t look half-asleep, like Sabo felt. 

He’d been watching Sabo.

“Not long,” Ace answers. He slips from the room soon after. Sabo lets him go.

He frowns, slightly. His legs curl up, and he buries his head slightly underneath a pillow. 

His hands reach out, settling in the warm spot where Ace had just been.

-

Sabo pulls one of Ace’s shirts down from the hanger. He’d lied in bed until the smell of food reached him. It didn’t seem burnt, so he was venturing out, taking the chance.

Ace smiles over his shoulder as Sabo nears. His eyes catch onto the new shirt, and his lips quirk up into a smirk. “Almost done,” he announces, turning back to the stove. Sabo blinks, hums. Definitely wasn’t burned. That was a surprise.

Ace plates the food before too long, setting them both down on the table before retreating back to grab a couple water bottles. “So, uh.”

Sabo pauses, fork poised but empty, and glances up.

Ace sets the water bottles down and crosses his arms on the table. “There were instructions, that came with your prescription,” he says, trying to keep his tone light. “Are you taking it in the morning, or . . ?”

Oh. Right.

Sabo sets his fork down.

He returns shortly with the paper bag, popping the staples out and pulling out the fold-up pamphlet and bottle. He sets the pills aside -ah, no, capsules, he faintly acknowledges- and starts skimming, squinting at the small text.

“One twice a day,” he murmurs. “With food.” He crumples the paper and pushes it away. “I’ll eat first, then.”

“Okay,” Ace responds in kind, allowing himself to indulge as well. He’s not an amazing cook, sure, but it didn’t taste bad by any means. Across from him, Sabo digs in more slowly, processing all the flavors. Ace wonders, faintly, when the last time he’s had something like this has been.

“I believe it,” Sabo finally says, pushing his empty plate away.

Ace blinks, lost. A reference to their conversation earlier, he assumes, but. “Y’know, I remember you eating the crackers, but uh. I’ve slept since then. So.”

“You’re a decent cook,” Sabo elaborates. He reaches for the water bottle and drains half of it in one go. Ace tips his head, watching his throat bob. His gaze moves lower, catching on to Sabo’s collarbones, revealed by the low collar of his borrowed shirt. 

Ah, that was right.

“We’ll go get you some clothes this weekend-”

Sabo immediately looks to him, and Ace can’t quite read his gaze, but he cuts himself off.

“With what money?” Sabo waves him off, slouching in his seat. “Don’t worry about it. These are fine. We’re still the same size-”

“Not quite,” Ace argues, brow furrowing as he realizes where the conversation is going. “You’re a little taller than me now-”

“It doesn’t matter-”

“Sabo,” Ace says, stern. The blond tenses, but he doesn’t look away. “Look, I didn’t mean we should shop downtown or anything. If you’re that adverse to it, let’s start at a thrift shop. But-” he adds, stopping Sabo from replying, even as his mouth opens. “I want you to have your own clothes. I know it’s been a while, since you’ve had things of your own. We can start slow. That’s fine.” He leans forward. “I want you to have things that belong to you, here.”

It’s a long moment before Sabo nods. It’s the only reply Ace gets, but he’ll take it. He gestures to the medicine bottle.

Sabo makes short work of prying it open, a multi-colored capsule in his palm. He eyes it for a moment, sighs, then tosses it in his mouth, chasing it down with a swig of water. He sets it down to find Ace watching him again. It rubs him the wrong way. “What?”

“Tremors,” Ace says. “What are the other side effects?”

Sabo holds out the crumpled instructions between them. “See for yourself.”

Ace sighs, but takes it. “I just want to know what to watch for,” he mumbles, eyes on the small print.

“Or you can let me take care of myself.”

He glances up at this, gaze meeting steely blue. 

“I’ve done it for five years now.”

Ace bites down on his lip, resisting the reply on the edge of his lips. _Yeah, and look how well that turned out._

In the next moment, his phone buzzes on the kitchen counter. Sabo reacts immediately, expression shifting, and his chair squeals as he shifts back.

Ace jumps up, ignoring his phone in favor of moving cross the table. For a moment, and then he realizes he should probably stop the noise before doing anything else. He ends up denying the call without checking who it was, then puts the phone on silent for good measure.

When he looks back, Sabo’s conniption is over. He’s leant forward in the chair, glaring at the tile. Ace hurries over, bends down, takes a chance and grabs the blond by the arm until he’s looking up at him.

“Sorry,” Sabo mutters.

“Stop saying that,” Ace immediately counters. His other hand comes up, holding Sabo’s arms tight. He leans up until their foreheads are pressed together, until Sabo has no choice but to look at him and him alone. “It’s not anything you can control, right? Don’t worry about being sorry. Tell me what I can do to help.”

Sabo blinks, and inhales sharply, and Ace gazes back calmly as he begins to see all the vulnerable emotions hiding just below Sabo’s skin start to surface. Carefully, he releases Sabo’s arms and wraps him in a hug, tight. It’s returned after a moment, and though their positions make it awkward, Sabo buries his face in the crook of Ace’s neck.

-

“Just you,” Ace murmurs into the speaker. “I know. We can see about tonight, okay? We’ll see how it goes. Just you, for now.” He smiles. “Yeah. See you soon, Luf.”

Ace hangs up and collapses on the couch. What a morning. Sabo’s still in the shower, so he finally caves and reaches for his laptop, opting to get a little schoolwork in while he had the time.

It’s going to take some time, Sabo had said. Until he readjusted. The best thing Ace could do was act normal, he’d said. His phone was back on vibrate, for now. Sabo had convinced him that he’d never get used to it, if he wasn’t exposed to it. Ace still found himself thinking of downloading a low ringer, something non-assuming. 

He brings up a group spreadsheet and immediately groans, reclining further onto the couch. It was littered with blue text, corrections, and then orange text, corrections over the corrections.

Luckily -maybe; he wasn’t so sure yet- blue text flitted into another cell in real time, and his fingers fly across the keyboard, copying the added text before deleting it and replacing it with his own. The response is immediate, the cell below filling with text as well. Ace frowns and clears his cell, typing a reply. It was as much as they could manage at having a conversation in a crowded spreadsheet.

_What the fuck is this?_

**Dude. My stats.**

_Copied, now explain._

**Well you were gone. We did the tests separate.**

_And got different results??_

**look cornelia is clearly in the wrong**

Before Ace can reply again, his emptied cell is already being typed in. 

_oh I AM huh??? wanna tell ace here how you fucked up the first one?_

Ace clears the lower box quickly. **How many did you do together** , he types.

_six._

**i did five more after, deuce did four.**

Ace sighs, leaning his head back against the armrest and rubbing his temples. He actually couldn’t deal with this right now.

He turns back to the screen and spends all of thirty seconds clearing text from the two cells as his two partners type, before they realize they were never going to complete a sentence and stop entirely. 

He cracks his fingers. Right, then.

_I’ll come up today so we can redo the first three. We’ll do the other 12 tom._

He types in the other cell before either of them can.

**I’m busy again today. Clear this color out, I’ll be there at 4.**

He exits the tab before he can refute his commitment, breathing a sigh through his nose. It takes him a moment to notice the bathroom door is open, steam wafting into the main room. “Sabo?” he calls.

“Yeah?”

Ace sets the laptop aside. “Luffy’s coming over soon-” he gets out, and then there’s excessive knocking at the door for all of four seconds.

It quiets for a long moment. Then, “is that him?” 

“Yeah,” Ace grits, standing from the couch and marching over to the door. He opens it to Luffy’s excited grin and closes it behind him, crowding his brother into a corner. “What did I say about the door?” he hisses. To Luffy’s benefit, there _is_ a flash of regret in his expression. 

Then he juts out his lip and looks pointedly away. “That’s how I always knock for Sabo,” he insists.

“Well, not anymore,” Ace stresses. Luffy glares at him and he sighs, holding his hands up. “Not for now, at least, okay? Please?”

Luffy’s nose wrinkles, like the sound of the mannerism should be foreign to Ace’s tongue. “Why not?”

“I don’t think he can handle it right now,” Ace evades. Luffy’s not deterred, though.

“But _why_ -”

 _"Because,_ Lu!” Ace shouts. He immediately regrets it, moving in close to hold Luffy’s face in his hands. He shakes him, gently, face growing softer. “Look. Sabo’s been in warzone conditions for five years. You don’t forget about that overnight. To him, pounding on a door might mean people raiding the place. Hostiles.” He lets go of Luffy’s face as he begins to sober up, persistence dying. “Could be worse, even, hell if I know. And _don’t_ ask him, okay? He’ll bring it up if he wants to.”

Luffy nods. “What about the ghosts?”

Ace sighs, barely resisting slapping a hand to his forehead. “They’re not ghosts, Luf. They’re not even real people.” His face screws up, as he recalls the military doctor’s words. “Actually, scratch that. Some of them might’ve been real.”

“Right. So they’re ghosts.”

“No-” Ace sighs again. “They’re not actually there. Sabo, he’s . . imagining them, okay? We don’t need to incite him, either. He just started his meds today. Hopefully before too long, he won’t see them anymore.”

“So, what? We just pretend he’s talking to himself?”

There’s a noise from behind the door, and Luffy tips his head to see over Ace, smiling. “Okay, yeah, got it,” he says, before Ace can answer him. “Don’t ask questions, don’t knock on doors. Now let me in! It’s not fair that you got him to yourself for a full night already!”

Ace crosses his arms, but moves out of the way. Sabo opens the door in the next moment, so Luffy’s got a direct path to him, arms around his neck before he can step past the threshold.

“Sabo!” he yells. 

Sabo looks like he definitely wasn’t prepared for that, but his body had reacted quick enough, holding Luffy close enough to where his feet dangled off the ground. His smile is bright, mirroring Luffy’s, but as Ace looks closer he can see the blond’s a bit harried. 

Luffy frowns a moment later, gaze dropping down. “Why are you wearing Ace’s shirt?” he questions.

Sabo hums, swaying back and forth, until Luffy grows restless and squirms until he’s dropped. “Why not?”

“He doesn’t have any clothes,” Ace answers, voice deadpan. Luffy gasps, then reaches forward, bringing Sabo close. 

“We’ll get you some! Promise!”

Sabo chuckles, casting a glance to Ace over Luffy’s head. Ace shrugs. Sabo rolls his eyes and holds the door open.

“Okay,” he murmurs, giving in as Luffy bounds inside. Ace catches the door behind them, slides it shut. 

“Ace, I’m hungry!” Luffy calls from deeper in the apartment, and Ace sighs as he leans against the wall next to the door. Sabo huffs out a laugh as he moves past him.

“Still the same Luffy,” he mumbles.

“Yeah,” Ace agrees. He pauses in the lip of the living room, watching Luffy dig through the cabinet. “How about we go out to eat?” he voices, and Luffy vaults off the counter, turning to him with stars in his eyes.

“Really?”

He tips his head to Sabo. “What do you want?”

“A cheeseburger,” is his immediate reply. Ace stifles a laugh, turning slightly to hide it. Luffy just whoops, raising his arms high. Then he drops them, as quickly as they were raised.

“Wait. You didn’t have cheeseburgers over there?”

Sabo shakes his head and Luffy gasps.

Before the melodrama can increase, Ace clears his throat. “Luffy, go start the car, okay? I’ll be right there.”

“Okay!” He dogs past Ace, dragging Sabo by his sleeve, and Ace can already hear him talking a mile a minute as he steps into the bedroom. 

He grabs his backpack from a corner of the room and stuffs some of his lab gear inside. A quick check of the front pocket reveals his key card, and he remembers leaving his wallet in the car. He backtracks to the couch to stuff his laptop in the bag as well, tossing it over his shoulder after. 

He opens the back door of the car to find Luffy leaned against Sabo’s seat, still talking his ear off. They both look to him as he sets the bag down in the floorboards, switching to the front seat soon after.

“What’s that for?” Sabo asks, eyes still trained on the bag. 

Ace adjusts his mirror and pulls out of the space, one hand resting on the back of Sabo’s seat. “I have to run to the lab in a bit,” he admits. He turns onto the main road, glancing over at Sabo. “Seatbelt,” he mentions.

“Oh, right.” 

Luffy hums from the back. “Does that mean no clothes shopping?”

“Yeah, you two go. Can you drive, Luf?”

That perks him up. “Uh-uh!”

Sabo still looks troubled. “What about you?”

“School’s not that far.” He jerks his head to the left. “Just a little that way.”

“We’ll just drop you off,” Luffy adds.

“How long will it take?” Sabo asks.

“Mm. Good question.” He shares a glance with Luffy through the rearview mirror, then swings over to park in front of a diner. 

“Luffy can take you back,” he starts. “Or-”

“You can come with me to Law’s!” Luffy says, clambering out of the car. “Everyone’s getting together there tonight, so it’ll be lots of fun!”

“But, like, chill fun,” Ace chimes in, shutting the door and rounding the car. 

“Everyone?” Sabo murmurs.

“Yeah!” Luffy swings the door open, then holds it for the other two. “Zoro, Nami, Sanji-”

“Lami and Law and Bonney-”

“Conis and Vivi!”

“And Kohza.”

“I’ll go.”

“And-” Luffy breaks off as his mind processes the words, grinning. “Great!”

“You sure?” Ace mumbles, stepping into his space while Luffy orders at the counter. Sabo casts him an odd look.

“Yeah,” he says, stepping forward to order.

-

Ace presses the large bill into Luffy’s hands, cupping it for him. “Use it all,” he mutters, low enough for Sabo to not have overheard. Luffy grins in response.

“Good luck dealing with those two!” he calls.

Ace works to keep the smile on his face at the remark, waving as the car pulls away from campus.

-

“You overdid it,” Sabo mutters, pulling a navy blazer out from one of the plastic bags. 

“We should’ve got hangers,” Luffy hums, stood in front of Ace’s closet, pushing everything to one side to make room. He tips his head back as he’s met with no reply, sees what Sabo’s holding. “You don’t like it? You used to wear those all the time.”

Sabo sighs, setting it aside. “Thank you.”

“No, something’s wrong.” Luffy marches away from the closet, comes to stand by the bed. “What is it?” 

Sabo hesitates for a moment, but only that. He’d never been able to deny Luffy. “You shouldn’t have spent all that money on me.”

Luffy tips his head. “Why not?”

“Because I-”

“I care about you, Sabo,” Luffy huffs. He crosses his arms over his chest. “Ace does to. We wanted to do this for you. What’s wrong with that?”

Sabo ducks his head. “Thank you,” he mumbles, again.

Luffy grins, tugging him off the mattress. “Now, get out of those sweats! Wear something that actually fits, for tonight.”

-

Sabo shows up on Law’s doorstep in jeans and one of Ace’s old flannels, soft fabric hanging off of him. Lami opens the door, smiling as Luffy waves, but dropping her jaw as she catches sight of Sabo.

“Oh my god,” she says, eyes wide. 

“Hi-” Sabo begins, and then her arms are around him, wrapping him in a tight hug. Luffy slips past them into the house, and he must mention Sabo’s name, because when Lami finally drags him inside, there’s a small crowd waiting to greet him.

He smiles, takes it all in stride. He can just barely remember the names of most of them, and the few he knows the faces of have definitely changed features since he’d been gone. Behind them, in the corner of the room, his gaze lands on Karasu staring at him.

Sabo holds it for a beat, then turns away. 

In the end, it doesn’t matter.

Karasu corners him in a more isolated part of the house. “I have a new mission for you,” he states. Sabo grits his teeth.

“You always say that,” he says, voice low. “Every time it’s the same thing. Just _leave_.”

He turns his back, starts walking down the hall. Karasu’s voice carries.

“You need to kill-”

“ _Go away_ ,” Sabo hisses, spinning on his heel to glare at Karasu. 

“Sabo?”

He tenses, shoulders jumping up at the sound of the voice right behind him. He turns again to see Vivi eyeing him carefully, one arm wrapped around the stairwell banister. “You okay?” she asks, once he’s looking into her eyes.

“Yeah,” Sabo says, still wound tight.

Vivi’s eyes narrow. “The heavy stuff’s in the kitchen.” She holds out a hand. “Let’s go. You look like you need it.”

He hums, lets himself be pulled along. Karasu doesn’t follow. Sabo doesn’t turn back.

-

Ace waves Deuce off as the latter pulls away from the driveway. He uses his set of keys to unlock the car, set his stuff down inside. Then he wanders to the front door, knocks. Waits.

Nami answers, blinks as she recognizes his form only by the light of the moon, then squints again, letting him slide into the house. “Doesn’t Luffy have your car?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he mutters, scanning the living room. Nami huffs out a laugh and he turns to her. She jerks a thumb to the doorway behind her.

“He’s in the kitchen.” She rolls her eyes as Ace moves past her. “Doing _fine,_ too. Worrywart.”

Ace ignores her, moving through the doorway, and his eyes immediately find Sabo’s.

“Ace!” he says, voice too loud. His cheeks are pink. _Great_.

“Hey.” He moves over to the counter, eyeing the glass near Sabo’s hand. “What’s this?”

“Hmm?” Sabo peers down at the bright blue liquid. “Dunno.” He picks up the glass, swirls it around. “Looks like cleaner. Hey, Viv.” He turns his head and Ace calmly plucks the glass from his hand. Sabo doesn’t notice. Vivi and Conis are clutching dark red drinks of their own, giggling in the corner. Sabo laughs, too, though he doesn’t know what’s funny.

Ace glares over at them, making cutthroat signs that quickly have them shutting up. He takes a seat beside Sabo, placing the glass at the end of the counter. Sabo frowns as he forgets the question he was going to ask, swiveling around to suddenly find Ace a lot closer. He blinks.

“What took you so long?”

“Group project,” Ace explains. “My group’s very . . dysfunctional. I helped them redo all of yesterday’s work.”

Sabo frowns. “You weren’t there?” Realization dawns on him. “You were with me.”

“Partially.” He recognizes this train of thought, the exact one he’d been hoping to avoid. “I’d also been getting groceries, cleaning the house-”

“For me, though,” Sabo says, cutting him off. Ace’s jaw clamps shut.

“ . . yeah,” he says after a moment.

“You should’ve stayed with your group.” 

Ace shrugs. “They survived. I had more fun with you, anyway.”

“Liar.”

Ace resists the sigh pulling on the edge of his lips. He changes topics. “You’re wearing my shirt,” he notes.

Sabo looks down, like he’s just realized this. He paws at the material for a moment. “Not used to jeans,” he mutters, looking back up. He wiggles one leg with his words, pivoting in his seat so he’s facing Ace properly. “Missed you.” He frowns. “What took you so long?”

“School.” Ace’s brow furrows. “Please tell me you got more than-”

“I got the clothes, Ace.” Sabo’s expression sours. His eyes are still hazy. “I just like this shirt.”

Yeah. He knew. He’d had to deal with it missing all throughout high school, sporadically turning up here or there just to disappear again later. 

“You have school tomorrow?” Sabo murmurs, words slightly slurring. Ace resists the urge to sit up straight, just realizing how much the blond had leaned over into his personal space. 

“Just a little. No classes.” He squints. “Are you going to remember this tomorrow?”

“Dunno.” The word catches, right as Sabo leans his forehead up against Ace’s. 

The flash of a camera leaves them both momentarily blinded. Sabo shuts his eyes, face screwing up in pain. Ace leans back to find Bonney in the mouth of the kitchen, typing on her phone.

“Oops, sorry.” She looks up, waves. “Forgot about the flash.”

Sabo puts his forehead down on Ace’s shoulder before he can think up a stinging retort. He starts whining.

“Can we go home?” he mumbles. Ace moves a hand to card through his hair.

“Yeah. Okay.” He looks up, catches Bonney’s attention. “Where’s Lami?”

“Living room,” she says, gesturing toward it with her phone before slinging off to join Vivi and Conis.

Ace hooks his hands on Sabo’s sides. “Can you stand?”

“Don’ wan’ to.” 

“Yeah, c’mon. We’re going home, remember.” He pauses as he catches the second meaning. “I can’t carry you anymore, Sab. You put on too much muscle for me.”

“You’re no fun,” Sabo murmurs, mouthing the words into Ace’s shirt. His eyes shift up, lock with Ace’s. Sabo hums. He lifts his head and Ace’s breath catches, startled at the close proximity.

Then Sabo turns away, slowly coming to a stand. Ace swallows, tries to remember how to breathe again.

“That was good,” Sabo mutters, nodding to the blue concoction as they pass it. He’s walking fine, but Ace still sticks close, just in case.

They enter into the living room and Ace waves to Law as he catches his eye, gestures to the door. Law nods, then his eyes move to Sabo. He’s leaning over to Lami now, both of them sat close on the couch, whispering to her. Ace watches as her eyes move to Sabo, and she laughs aloud before stifling it with her hand.

Ace rolls his eyes, maneuvering his charge over to the door. 

_“Wait, Sanji-!_ ”

Nami’s voice echoes from further in the house, and she appears at the top of the staircase, panting, a big wine bottle in her arms. Zoro and Luffy follow after her, Kohza trailing after them. 

“I found one, Sanji!” Nami calls. She hurries down the stairs, jostling the bottle, and Ace huffs out a laugh. 

He turns to glance at Sabo, but the blond is facing the back door. Ace follows his gaze, but no one is there.

There’s a gasp, a clambering of footsteps, a yelp -Ace turns back around just in time to see a dogpile at the base of the stairs. The wine bottle lands hard on the wood flooring, shattering.

Ace flinches back at the noise as Lami and Law stand from the couch. “You okay?” Law asks, and receives three forms of ‘yes’ from the ones on the ground.

That’s when Ace notices his hand is empty.

He turns to see Sabo backing away, legs shaking. His face is pale. It’s like he’s gone completely sober.

“Sa-”

Before he can finish, Sabo’s legs give and he falls to the floor, eyes still fixed on the spilled wine and glass shards. His breathing picks up, chest rising and falling rapidly.

Ace is on the ground in front of him, cupping his cheeks. “Sabo?” he says, voice low. “Sabo.”

One of those did the trick, blue eyes snapping up to him, awareness stark as day in their depths. He leans away from Ace’s touch, wrapping his arms around his form.

“Sabo,” Ace repeats again, and this time the blond snaps his attention to the rest of the room, all eyes on him. Even the crowd in the kitchen was peering out, curious by the noise.

Sabo stands, huffs out a shaky exhale. “Sorry,” he mutters. The room is quiet enough to where it’s audible.

The next moment he’s throwing open the front door, and then he’s gone, the heavy door closing shut behind him.

Ace blinks.

“What ha-” someone begins to ask.

Ace shoots to his feet. He wrenches the door back open. “Sabo!” he yells out into the night.

Behind him, still in the house, scathing voices break out. “Way to _go_ , Nami,” someone says, and then the door is closed and Ace is leant against the side of his car, a safe distance away from Sabo, who’s pressed against the front tire, both hands over his heart.

“Hey,” Ace whispers, moving closer. “ _Hey_.” He drops to his knees. 

“Sorry,” Sabo gasps.

Ace moves until he’s right beside Sabo, pressed to his side, sliding blond locks out of his face. “It’s okay,” he breathes. Sabo shakes his head.

“S-So-”

Ace leans Sabo’s head against his chest. He shushes him, wrapping his arms around him, holding him close. “You’re still drunk,” he voices, nearly lost to the air. “You won’t remember this, by tomorrow. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Sabo melts fully into his arms, all the tension draining away. He sniffles, loud in the quiet. “Okay,” he whispers. 

“Let’s go home.”

“Okay,” Sabo whispers.

-

For all they had done that evening, Ace still finds himself climbing into bed alone, tempted but withheld to reach out for Sabo. Sabo had insisted Ace have the shower first, and he’d had such an exhausting time at the lab -not to mention dealing with the fallout of the party- that he finds himself slipping away, unable to remain awake until Sabo arrived. 

His eyes open just a little as the matress shifts, and his fingers twitch, but he resists the urge, falling back asleep.

He wakes one more time, before the sun is out, to a surprise.

Sabo had wandered closer, in his sleep or otherwise, and now rested with his head nearly against Ace’s chest, nose brushing the fabric of his shirt.

Ace can’t help it. He reaches out, arms going around Sabo’s middle, and tugs him closer, just enough to feel the warmth from his body heat. Another moment later, Sabo shifts, and Ace tenses, afraid he’d gone too far, fingers already prying away from-

Sabo presses his face to Ace’s collarbone, golden crown resting just below his chin.

Ace breathes out a sigh, so relieved he could cry. He bends his neck to bury himself in Sabo’s hair, breathing deeply and feeling his heart settle.

They had never talked about it. They didn’t talk about it before Sabo decided to leave, either. Five years ago. Five years was a long time to be away from someone.

Ace had been afraid. Afraid that if he tried to address it aloud, everything they had built back up would crumble. Besides, the pending status of their dubious relationship wasn’t even top five of Ace’s list of worries. Taking care of Sabo now came first, always.

His mind flashes back to the party, to Sabo leaning his forehead against Ace’s, a familiar look to his eyes. To him parading around in Ace’s shirt, just like he used to.

Ace exhales, and it’s shaky.

Five years was a long time.

But when he looks now, to the blond curled in his arms, he finds himself wondering if it even mattered.


	3. mend the break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yessa said 'give them the sabo chapter its short and you dont need to edit' and i was like yeah..... thats fine
> 
> this is jus sabo's pov of ch 2 and one of the length-exceptions i mentioned before. hope everyone has a good close to 2019. see you next year !

Sabo stumbles and knocks his back to the wall just as Ace closes the front door. “Get out of my head,” he says lowly.

Karasu stalks closer and Sabo’s fingers curl against the plaster. “You have to kill-”

“Stop!” Sabo barks. His eyes slip shut. Karasu’s footsteps are loud, even on the carpet. “Please, stop,” he whispers.

“Sabo. Just listen to me.”

He grits his teeth and opens his eyes, glaring at the former vice-leader of Division Nineteen. “There’s _nothing_ to listen to,” he argues. “You’re _dead_.”

“Sabo-”

“I’m _out of the military,_ ” he stresses. “I can’t.”

Karasu stands silent, a towering sentry, staring down at Sabo. He tries to hold his own, but his stomach twists the more he looks at the face of a dead man, at the _being_ wearing his dead friend’s face like a mask.

Sabo pushes past Karasu, out of the bedroom.

“If you won’t kill him,” Karasu calls, “how will you ever prove your worth?”

His hand pauses just above the front door’s handle, breath catching. He resists the urge to bury his head in his hands, opening the door wide instead. _What is wrong with me,_ he thinks, swinging Luffy up in the air.

“I’ll be back,” Karasu says, from behind him. 

-

“It’s a mission, Sabo,” Karasu says, and Sabo sees himself jump in the changing room’s mirror. “You can’t refute a mission.”

“I can if I’m discharged,” he whispers, eyes narrowing to slits.

“You wouldn’t refuse a mission from Dragon,” Karasu insists. “No matter your status.”

“You’re just in my head,” Sabo mumbles to himself, pulling on a shirt.

Except. His gaze moves to Karasu, as he looks himself up and down in the mirror. He had a reflection. He was denting the clothes, where he sat. he was having a conversation with Sabo.

His hands start shaking. Sabo grabs them, tight, clenching them together until they settle down.

“If I’m in your head,” Karasu mumbles, “I wonder who else is.”

-

Sabo shuts the car door on the bags of clothes and turns around to find Karasu right in front of him. He gasps, leaning back against the car to avoid colliding with him. The car jostles again as luffy climbs into the driver’s seat. 

“Take the mission, Sabo,” Karasu says, like this is only the third time he’s seen the blond. Well. Since he’s got off the plane, that would be true.

Sabo huffs and opens the passenger door, slipping inside. Luffy glances from him to out the passenger window, but he doesn’t say anything, putting the car in reverse instead.

“Seatbelt!” he does chime as they leave the parking lot. Sabo curses, _god_ , as he clips it in, because his winning streak is only at _zero_ -

“We have time before Law’s party starts,” Luffy says. “Let’s go put these up before then.”

-

The jeans fit, and they look nice. But they feel weird.

“You gotta get used to ‘em,” Luffy says, shrugging. He’s digging through the last of the shirts they’d run out of hangers for, but Sabo has another idea, moving to the closet.

He’s honestly surprised Ace still had the old flannel. But, there it is, pushed toward the back. Sabo slips it off the hanger, holds it up to his neck. Yeah. Even after all this time, it’d still fit.

“You really wanna wear that old thing?” Luffy asks as Sabo shrugs it on. His nose wrinkles. 

“Yeah.” Sabo finishes the last button, moves his fingers to grasp at the hem. He nods, more to himself.

Just like he remembered.

-

Vivi offers the heavy stuff, and she delivers.

At one point, Sabo doesn’t even know what he’s drinking. He doesn’t care, either, willing it down his throat until his vision is fuzzy, until he can’t see to notice if Karasu is there at all. He doesn’t want to see Karasu. He’d much rather see-

“Ace,” he says, breaking out into a smile as the exact person he’d been thinking about glides through the door. He sets his glass down on the countertop, all eyes as Ace moves to stand next to him. 

“What’s this?” he asks, nodding to the blue.

Sabo hums, peering down at it. Reminded him of window- “Cleaner,” he mumbles. “Maybe?” He picks it up, twists in his seat. “Viv,” he calls. Wait. It wasn’t cleaner, it tasted too good for that. Right?

When he looks back, the glass is gone. That was weird. He had left it right there. Oh, wait, why did he need Vivi? Maybe Ace knew.

He turns in the seat, but not all the way. Sabo blinks. Had Ace been sitting down before? His eyes lid, and he tips forward, just the smallest amount. “What took you so long?” There’s a slight whine to his voice. His lips purse. 

“Group project,” Ace answers. “Dysfunctional,” he mumbles, and Sabo squints, strains his ears. “I helped them redo all of yesterday’s work.”

Sabo frowns. That didn’t sound like Ace. Why would he redo his own work? “You weren’t there?” Oh. His eyes grow wide. “You were with me.”

He leans back, just a little.

“Partially-” Ace begins. Sabo’s frown deepens. He doesn’t want to hear this.

“You should’ve helped them.”

Ace shrugs. “I had more fun with you.”

“Liar,” Sabo immediately bites out. Sabo was just a bunch of hard work. He’d always be the second choice. There’d always be someone better.

“-wearing my shirt,” Ace says, and Sabo finds his gaze on his lips. He blinks, moves his gaze down.

Oh. He remembered this shirt. 

He reaches up to feel the fabric, soft between his fingers. Wait. Did Ace ask a question?

Sabo tips his head. “No’used to jeans,” he slurs, looking back to Ace’s lips. He pivots so he’s facing Ace better, now. He leans forward. “Missed you.” He frowns. “What took you so long?” Ace had left while the sun was still out. He’d given Luffy a lot of money.

“School,” Ace answers, and Sabo frowns, leans closer. That was a stupid answer. He knew where Ace was. He wanted to know _why_.

Ace looks at him funny. He looks down at the jeans, then back to Sabo. “Please tell me you got more than-”

“I got clothes,” Sabo insists, frowning again. “Ace.” Sabo squints, hums. His fingers move to play with the hem of the flannel. All those clothes were so _new_. But he knew this shirt. He bunches his hand into the fabric. “I like this shirt.”

Ace’s expression tells Sabo he knows, already. Of course he did. It was his shirt.

Sabo leans forward more, because Ace is still fuzzy. That’s right, Ace was finally here. He frowns. “You have school tomorrow, too?”

“A little,” Ace admits, and Sabo hums, eyes back on his lips. Ace was leaving again, tomorrow. But he was here now.

“Are you going to remember this tomorrow?” Ace asks, voice quiet.

“Dunno,” Sabo mumbles. Who cares. His forehead falls against Ace’s, and he blinks. There it is. He can see Ace, now. Sabo smiles.

A bright flash of light makes Sabo wince. His eyes screw shut. Ace moves away.

Sabo whines in protest. He moves forward until he’s leant against Ace, again. His head hurts. “Can we go home?”

“Yeah. Okay,” Ace says, right by Sabo’s ear. He shivers. Warm hands come up to his sides, and Sabo hums. “Can you stand?”

“Don’ want to,” he says, head still on Ace’s shoulder. _“Carry me?”_ he asks, the words slipping as unintelligible mumbles from his lips.

“Can’t anymore, Sab.” He shivers at the nickname. How long had it been, that he’d heard that? “You put on too much muscle for me.”

Sabo frowns. Okay, moment ruined. “No fun,” he mumbles. Too heavy? He wasn’t even going to try! He moves his head, peering up at silver eyes.

Well, two could play that game.

Sabo lifts his face straight up, close enough to breathe air on Ace’s lips. He stays still, let’s one second pass, two.

Then he turns away, works himself off of his seat.

Sabo doesn’t think he walks funny, but Ace is right there, so maybe he is. His eyes fall to the edge of the bar, where his glass sat. “That was good.”

He tries to move toward it, finish it off, but a grip on his hand pulls him forward. Sabo sighs, lets himself be led out of the kitchen.

His eyes squint. It’s bright, out here. His face feels hot.

Ace is tugging him again, to the door.

“Sabo,” a voice calls, and Sabo resists the pull, working his eyes open until he spots Karasu near the back door.

Ugh. He didn’t drink enough.

“You have to kill him,” Karasu insists, loudly. Sabo screws his face up. If he could feel his tongue, he would stick it out.

“Don’t believe me? Okay.” Karasu shrugs. “Fine. I am dead, after all. Don’t you remember-”

A loud _crash_ leaves Sabo’s head spinning, and he turns to the noise. His eyes land on the blood coating the floor.

_Don’t you remember-_

He inhales, sharp. Takes a step back, wrenching his hand away from a loose grip. It trembled. He grabs it with his left hand, holds it tight. Karasu is lying in a lake of his own blood. His eyes don’t turn to meet Sabo’s, anymore. 

He flinches, hears the _crash_ again, the window breaking. His legs give out. There was too much blood. Sabo didn’t know what to do. There was too much blood. There was too-

“Sabo,” Ace breathes, right in front of him. Sabo moves back, out of his hold. His heart is hammering in his chest. Everything is too bright. His head hurts.

Karasu is dead.

“Sabo,” Ace repeats, and it finally snaps him out of it. His eyes move to the stairs, to the mess on the floor. _Did I do that?_

Everyone’s looking at him. He looks down. His hands are shaking. He presses them hard to his thighs, willing them to stop. 

_You should just leave._

Yeah. He should. Not like he could pay for the floor repairs. He rises to his feet, shaky. His head hurt.

“Sorry,” he huffs, not lifting his gaze from the ground.

No one stops him as he stumbles to the door, wrenches it open.

He takes off as soon as the cold of the night slaps him in the face.

-

He doesn’t want to remember tonight.

Sabo repeats this as he climbs into bed. He doesn’t want to remember it. Any of it. 

His gaze moves to the lump on the other side of the mattress.

He doesn’t want to remember. But.

His lips purse. He swallows a cry. 

But he needs someone.

 _Ace is asleep_ , he thinks. _Don’t wake him up._

But!

Sabo pushes himself to the other side of the bed. He curls up right next to Ace, allowing himself this much. If nothing came from it? Okay. He didn’t want to remember anyway. 

_Huh._

Strange. He felt like he was missing something. 

_Tomorrow. You can miss it tomorrow, Sabo._

Yeah. That sounded good.


	4. to denote, to expand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive been posting updates my my main page, but heres a quick summary - i hurt my wrist in january, and i havent let myself write or anything while it was trying to heal. its been pretty much normal for a couple weeks now. last week i injured my shoulder from overuse and it got dramatically worse the other day, so after not drawing for a couple months now i cant draw again so i can rest it ://// 
> 
> anyway, im waiting for the pharmacy to open to get muscle relaxants, bc i cant sleep with the pain, so i decided to edit and post some of this for the heck of it. if they work well enough and i can write while on them, ill update on the main page -i had updates planned for april, but now idk, it depends how fast i recover.. again heh
> 
> **EDIT;; i realized im rly bad abt updating the tags for tw stuff so i jus posted a bunch for future content jus bc.. if you dont feel like being spoiled dont read them -ill warn for them again before the chapter so you have a proper heads-up if you need it**

Sabo wakes to his head pounding. He stifles a groan. Something clenches around him, and he opens his eyes halfway, met with skin.

He tips his head up.

“Oh,” he whispers, voice a little hoarse.

Ace hums. “Good?”

In response, Sabo curls back into him. His head hurts. 

This feels nice, though.

-

Sabo wakes again and he’s on his back.

He’s alone.

He takes this into account, squinting at the ceiling. Reaches out an arm, feeling along Ace’s side. It’s not cold, but it’s obvious Sabo’s been alone for more than a few minutes. Sabo sighs, tips his head to see out the door, then winces, eyes shutting as a wave of vertigo hits him. His skull feels like it’d been cracked in half.

He holds still, waits until the pain settles into a dull ache, then pries his eyes open. The door is shut.

Great.

Sabo tosses an arm over his eyes, settles back down, and groans as another wave of pain shacks him. God. He really drank that much at Law’s place, huh. He sighs, breathing through his mouth. He never was a very good drunk.

The door opens and Sabo slowly moves his arm down his face. There’s a light on in the main room, coming in just behind Ace, and he moves his arm back to cover his eyes. “Door,” he mumbles, and Ace complies, sliding it shut. 

“Cheap guess, but. You don’t feel great?”

Sabo moves his arm so it’s over his head. “No.”

“I made breakfast. You should still eat something.”

Sabo recoils at Ace’s words, twisting until he was somewhat facing the opposite side of the room. His lips raise, baring teeth, and he shakes his head, resisting the urge to squirm. “Thanks, but just thinking about food right now is absolutely repulsive.”

Ace sighs, moves to sit on the edge of the bed. “What about your medicine?”

Sabo screws his eyes shut, letting out a low curse. He turns to Ace, curls into himself a little, and shoots an arm out from under the blankets, palm up. “Give it. I’ll swallow it dry.”

Ace shifts, leaning closer. A hand settles in Sabo’s hair and he leans into it automatically. “You have to take it with food,” Ace says, keeping his voice low. 

“No.”

Ace scoffs. “Still have the worst hangovers, I see. It never fails to amaze me, how much alcohol you’ll consume before you’re satisfied, when you know you’ll end up like this.”

Sabo would be mad, but Ace’s hand is threading through his hair the entire time he speaks, and it feels nice. He retreats his arm back under the covers, but it’s pinned before long, and Sabo’s face screws up, fingers twitching around Ace’s.

“What about some crackers?” Ace asks, and Sabo blinks his eyes open, moves them up to meet Ace’s.

“We’re still on this?” he mumbles.

“Yeah, we are.” His hand squeezes Sabo’s. “I’ll be here all day if I have to, nagging. Three crackers. Then I’ll let you go back to sleep.”

Sabo grumbles, words unintelligible. Ace would make true on his threat, he was well aware. “Fine,” he sighs, the word nothing more than a puff of air. He resists the whine in his throat as Ace retracts himself from the bed.

He’s sat up on the headboard before too long, taking the package from Ace and twisting it open.

“I have to head to school in a bit. Not sure how long it’ll take, but I’ll-” He frowns, just realizing something. “You don’t have a phone, do you?”

Sabo shakes his head a little, munching on the crackers. “Broke,” he says. “Never got it replaced.”

“Huh. Okay.” There’s a suspicious pause in there, but Sabo’s too out of it to think much on it. “Do I need to call someone over?”

“No,” he mumbles, handing back the package. “Not like I’m going anywhere.”

“Right,” Ace sighs. He waits until Sabo swallows to hand him the capsule and a cup of water. “You need anything?”

“Do you have APAP?” Sabo asks, handing the cup back. His head is hurting again.

“I can get some. It’s with caffeine, right-”

Sabo’s already waving him off. “I’ll just take what you have.”

Ace, smartly, gives up while he’s ahead. He moves to grab his backpack from the floor and takes out a pill bottle -standard pain medication. Sabo takes it dry, then moves to lie down again, sinking into the mattress. His eyes flutter, struggling to keep focus of Ace.

“I’ll be back later,” he says, smoothing a hand over Sabo’s hair again.

“I’ll be here, dying,” Sabo mutters. 

-

Sabo sees things.

It’s not people. There’s just enough light coming in from the blinds to cast the room into view, and so Sabo sees things that aren’t there. 

He sighs, closes his eyes again, but sleep won’t come. He’d been in and out of it for a while. It was impossible to tell the time, not with the only clock in the room being busted, lying on its side on a nightstand.

Sabo can’t blame this one on the hangover.

It’s little things. The light from the window shifts around on the floor. A discarded shirt twitches, like being ruffled by a breeze. Things appear just on the edge of his line of sight, disappear as he turns to look, and then appear again once he’s turned back. 

He watches as the cord to the alarm clock slides across the table, falling to the floor, and jerks out a hand to stop it. He freezes halfway, remembering it was attached to the clock, that it couldn’t move on its own.

He turns to face the closet, but that side is worse, the floor more visible. His eyes track little blips on the carpet, like bugs, moving from one to the next as more formed and vanished and formed again.

His head spins and he throws his eyes shut, dizzy. That he could blame on the hangover.

This was boring.

After who knows how long lying there, eyes closed but sleep not coming, Sabo sighs and sits up. His head aches, but it’s dull. Manageable. 

He ends up in the shower.

The light was on, but with the curtain drawn, it was bearable. Sabo stands under the warm water for a long time. He lets his eyes slip shut, leans his head forward. His hair falls in front of his face, wet.

There’s a knock on the door.

Sabo tenses, automatic. His hands clench into fists at his side. _Not now_ , he thinks, begs. _Please not_ -

“Sabo?”

All too quickly, Sabo breathes out a sigh, forcing himself to relax. It was just Ace.

He bends over to turn the water off. “Yeah?”

“I got some aspirin. I’ll set it in the kitchen counter.”

Of course he did. Sabo pushes the shower curtain aside, reaching for a towel. 

“Do you feel like eating yet?”

“I guess.”

“Great, I picked up fried rice on the way home.”

That actually sounds amazing. Not because he was particularly hungry, but because he knew how much grease it contained. 

It’s good, too. Sabo had taken one of the aspirin earlier, and about halfway through the takeout container, he feels it start to kick in, his headache ebbing. 

“Oh yeah, I got you something,” Ace says, digging into the pocket of his jacket. Sabo looks up from his food, but stops chewing when Ace slides the item across the table.

He stares. The phone doesn’t go away.

“You didn’t,” he finally chokes, snapping his head up.

Ace shrugs, waving him off. “It’s Lami’s old one,” he admits. “I picked it up on my way back. It’s not active yet, but we can set it up tomorrow.”

Sabo drops his fork and picks the phone up, turning it in his hands. It was a different model than he was used to, sleeker, but being away from smartphones for five years would do that to you. He clicks it on and his eyes narrow at the time before anything else. “It’s that late already?”

“Uh, yeah?” Ace leans back, shoves more food into his mouth. “I actually left earlier than planned, told myself I could enter the data at home. You must’ve slept later than you thought.”

“I guess,” Sabo mumbles, scrolling through the phone. There were only two numbers in the directory, Ace’s and Lami’s. He knew neither were there by accident.

“What do you think?” Ace asks, and if there’s a little nervousness in his tone, Sabo chooses not to respond to it.

“How much is it gonna cost each month?”

Ace sighs, throwing his head back. Sabo looks up. “Look, you really have to stop worrying over how I spend my money. I know neither of us has the best track record, but I’ve gotten better. Plus, it’s not like I have any bills looming over my neck, either.”

“What about tuition?” Sabo bites, stabbing a vegetable with his fork.

Ace raises a brow. “School pays _me_.”

Sabo pauses at this. He looks back up. Something changes on Ace’s face.

“I graduated last year,” he admits. “Came back here after.”

“You’re . . in grad school,” Sabo mumbles, connecting the dots. Ace nods. “Chemistry?” Ace nods again. “Oh.”

Ace lets them sit in silence for a few moments, resisting the urge to rub his hands over his face. There was still a rift. And of course there would be, they’d spent five years apart, after all. He couldn’t expect Sabo to come back and still know every little thing about him. They’d both been through a lot, and not being in contact meant each was kept in the dark about the other.

“Lami wanted you to have the phone,” he finally says, breaking the silence. “Please take it.”

“Okay.”

They go back to eating. It takes a few minutes for Ace to find Sabo’s stopped completely. He looks up in question.

“I’m not hungry anymore,” Sabo murmurs. 

“Put the lid back on. You can throw it in the fridge, eat it later.”

Sabo does that, and when he sits back down, Ace sets the pill bottle in front of him. He blinks.

“Twice a day, remember?” Ace gestures to his water. “It’s late enough. Take it now.”

Sabo twists the cap off. “Thanks, mom.”

Ace waves him off, finishing the last of his food. “Yeah, you’re welcome.”

Sabo snorts, tossing the capsule into his mouth. His eyes crinkle, and he laughs for real after he’s swallowed. Ace’s back is turned as he’s throwing away the container, and Sabo lets himself get away with this, bringing up a hand to cup his mouth, laughing at Ace’s extent. 

His arm knocks the bottle over, spilling capsules everywhere. Several tumble to the floor.

Sabo stops laughing.

Ace, who’s lips had quirked up as well, enjoying the sounds coming from the blond, comes back over quickly. He’s not quite frowning, gauging Sabo’s expression, and leans over to start grabbing the medicine from the floor.

Sabo’s chair squeaks as he pushes it back, coming to kneel on the floor. “You don’t have to do that,” he murmurs.

“It’s all good,” Ace says, easy. He hands Sabo what he’d gathered, then turns back to get the last few. “Just an accident.”

Sabo’s frowning, now, but he reaches up to grab the bottle, lets the capsules fall back inside. He stands up and gathers the ones on the table, and Ace puts the last few from the floor back in as well. He makes sure the lid is on before he sets it down.

Ace is watching him, but he doesn’t comment on it. He moves to the living room instead, slipping his laptop out from his backpack. “I’m gonna finish this data entry, shouldn’t take that long.”

“‘Kay.” 

Ace looks up to see Sabo settling on the opposite couch. His lips quirk up, as he’s folding his legs underneath him, propping the laptop open. “If you’re tired, you can go back to bed.”

“Nah,” Sabo murmurs, slumping longways on the couch. Ace hums, acknowledging his words, then turns back to his work. Sabo lets his eyes lid, and he tips his head to watch.

Ace’s hair is longer than back in high school. The ends are down lower on his neck, fanned out, and his bangs curl down around his ears. His face is more defined, all sharp cheekbones and strong jawlines. There’s still a smattering of freckles just under his eyes, and across the bridge of his nose. His hair’s still spiky, natural, but it doesn’t look messy. Unlike Sabo’s, hair hanging just over his shoulders, that always looked disheveled these days. 

The sound of tapping keys stops, and Sabo lifts his eyes again, meeting Ace’s. There’s a question there, and Sabo knows he’s been caught. Instead of answering, though, he finds himself making a request. “Hey. Brush my hair.”

Ace blinks, but his expression remains neutral. After a moment, he returns his eyes to his laptop, fingers typing again. “Sure, just let me finish this.”

Sabo sucks in a breath, eyes dropping. He feels a nervousness settle in his stomach, because he hadn’t meant to ask that, but he certainly didn’t expect Ace to say yes. 

He feels tired. Ace is still typing. Sabo lets his eyes slip shut, positive Ace would wake him after a while.

-

He runs his hand through Sabo’s hair.

It’s late, and the blond’s been sleeping for a while. Ace had finished with the spreadsheet and moved on to type up some of the preliminary tests he’d need to run the next day. By the time he looked up, eyes sore from staring at the bright screen, Sabo was asleep.

He wakes, now, slowly, as Ace carefully moves his hair from where it’d sagged down in front of his eyes. They open, still unaware, and Ace takes a moment to admire the deep blue. A little clarity starts blooming in their depths, and Ace brings a hairbrush into view.

“Ready?”

Sabo closes his eyes again, scrunches his face, and inhales. He moves his arms, propping himself up, and nods, making room for Ace on the couch.

“All done?” he asks, back turned to Ace. 

“Yeah,” Ace replies. He reaches forward and cards his fingers through Sabo’s blond locks, shifting closer, and then carefully runs the brush through. Sabo lets out a sigh, leans his head back a little into the pull, and it brings a smile to Ace’s face. They sit like that for a long time, content in the quiet. Ace has Sabo lean back a little after a spell, so he could reach the sides more easily, and it morphs until Sabo is nearly leaned against Ace’s chest. Not that he minds.

He’ll run the brush up against Sabo’s scalp occasionally, drawing a noise of content from him. Mostly he works through the tangles, knowing that trying to smooth out the wavy hair was a futile effort. Sabo had his eyes closed again, though Ace couldn’t know this. He tries to nod off again when Ace leans back slightly, lets his arms fall. “All done,” he murmurs.

Sabo hums. He allows himself to fall fully against Ace’s chest. After a moment, Ace sets the brush aside, arms wrapping loosely around Sabo’s waist. He tips his head forward to rest against soft hair.

“Thanks,” Sabo says, barely a whisper. 

“Yeah,” Ace replies, after a moment. He starts shifting as he notices Sabo’s breathing deepen. “Hey, let’s go lie down, okay?”

Sabo willingly moves forward, allowing Ace to stand. He quickly rises after Ace, but stumbles once he’s on his feet. He lets out a quick exhale, vision going fuzzy, and then his hands are on Ace’s chest, the other steadying him.

“Hey. You okay?” Ace asks.

“Dizzy,” Sabo mumbles, keeping his eyes locked onto Ace’s shirt. His legs tremble, but Ace has him tight, arms around his back, holding him close. They wait it out, one moment, two, and then Sabo exhales again, leaning away.

“I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Yeah. Don’t get up so fast, next time,” Ace chides. His voice holds no weight, though. “I think that’s another side effect. Just be careful.”

Sabo nods, and then Ace is pulling him toward the bedroom.

-

Ace is nervous, but it’s fleeting.

Last night had been good, but Sabo hadn’t been all there. Ace had woken up first and left before the other could. Sabo didn’t seem to remember anything, which was great, but . .

Ace is nervous, but he tries to ignore it. He scoots to the middle of the bed, not willing to give Sabo a chance to think anything different.

He doesn’t. He comes around and lifts the blankets up and settles one leg on the bed, looking to Ace, lips quirked up. “Not giving me much room to breathe.”

“Do you mind?” Ace asks, and Sabo’s breath catches. He looks away.

“ . . no,” he eventually mumbles, slipping the rest of the way onto the bed. He lies there for a moment, stuck, but Ace doesn’t move away. So Sabo moves forward, until his head lies right next to Ace’s, and slips an arm up to curl around his shoulder, the one leaned against the pillow.

Ace recognizes the action, watching as Sabo's fingers played where the scar tissue ran along the skin. Even with a shirt on, Sabo knew exactly where it was. Ace had never figured out why he did it. Whether it was out of nervousness, or contentment, or just habit at this point. It was another thing Ace knew, that Sabo hadn’t changed. Something about that comforted him.

It made him brave enough to reach out, curl an arm over Sabo’s side. He tenses beneath Ace’s touch, but relaxes in the next heartbeat. He’s smiling, when Ace looks back.

“Goodnight, Ace,” he breathes, and Ace finds himself mesmerized with the look in his ocean eyes. 

It pulls him to sleep faster than he would’ve thought, mind finally settling, nervousness flitting away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tumblr](https://cheswirls.tumblr.com) ! sometimes (very rarely) ill post abt op on there. if you want more consistent updates on how im doing injury-wise, thats the first place to check
> 
> the next update will probably be double length, maybe longer. i still havent found a good place to break it up (i tend to write stories altogether so if theyre not one-shots i break them up when i post) so i jus decided not to. maybe april, maybe may. not promising anything


	5. flecks of light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i kinda feel rly bad that i didnt put out anything for april and i saw i got a handful more subscribes to this fic so i edited this ch w a speech-to-text tool bc i have it (and i'm too impatient to edit w only my left hand) and i wanted to post something.
> 
> that being said i hope?? you guys are still enjoying this??? i wont know unless you tell me. so.

Ace wakes up before the sun is out and rolls over to check his phone. He sits up once he spies the time, but a noise has him looking back before he can rise fully from the bed. Even in the dark, he can tell Sabo’s eyes are on him.

“Leaving?” His voice is still husky from sleep. Ace feels a stab of something, guilty for waking him.

“I have to be at the lab by five.” Sabo doesn’t say anything else, so Ace moves away. Before both feet can touch the floor, though, there’s a hand on his sleeve, fingers gripping the fabric tight. 

Ace waits, but Sabo doesn’t say anything. He tries moving again, but the grip tightens. Finally, Ace lets out an inaudible sigh and turns around, dips forward back to Sabo.

Before the blond can react, Ace presses his lips to Sabo’s forehead. Instantly, Sabo’s grip slackens, and Ace pulls out of reach.

“I’ll be back later,” he says lowly, moving across the room. From the bed, Sabo huffs, shifting to bury his face in the pillows. 

Ace moves back once he’s dressed and gathered his things, leaning over Sabo. “Don’t forget to take your medicine.”

Sabo huffs out something that may be an answer, he isn’t sure. After a moment Ace realizes he’s too far gone, and gives up on conversation. He moves to his desk instead and grabs a sticky note, jotting down a short reminder for Sabo onto it. He sticks it on one of the pillows, sure Sabo would see it that way, and then slips quietly from the room.

-

Sabo wakes up to the sound of crinkled paper.

His eyes open to a low-lit room. Ace had opened the blinds before leaving, it seems, but the sun wasn’t high enough for it to matter. He lies like that for a minute, eyes adjusting, and then shifts again. The sound comes, again, and he tracks it to where his arm was splayed on Ace’s pillow. He lifts his hand to find the sticky note underneath.

Sabo sighs, slipping his eyes shut. He was too tired for this.

When he wakes again, it’s a little brighter in the room. He doesn’t give himself a chance to fall back asleep, sitting up in a hurry. His head spins, and Sabo slaps a hand to the headboard, loud, to steady himself. He lets his eyes drop to the matress.

The note catches his eye.

“Right,” he mutters, snatching it up. He recognizes Ace’s handwriting. Oh. The medicine. 

The kitchen reveals an assortment of things he could have straight away, but he really doesn’t feel hungry. It’d be best to have a little of something that’d fill him up quickly, and then drink some water to aid it. So, bread, he decides.

Sabo hasn’t used any sort of electrical appliance in a long time. He thinks on this as he stands over the oven, tray with two slices of bread on it in his hand. He’d dug up the tray after a good minute. Searching for what he needed wasn’t a problem, but using the oven was . . .

He slides the tray onto one of the racks before attempting to mess with the dials.

Finally, he figures turning it on broil wouldn’t hurt. The symbol showed it only turned on the top burner. That was what he was going for.

Sighing, Sabo moves to grab a water bottle from the fridge. He just wanted this to be over with. The whole thing was starting to sound more unappetizing the longer he thought about it.

After taking a couple swigs, he sets down the bottle next to the sink and goes to grab the Ziprasidone. As he’s picking it up, though, an acrid smell hits his nose, one he’s unfortunately very familiar with. One that makes his heart drop.

He sets down the pills and moves quickly to the oven, throwing the door open. The inside light triggers, and Sabo finds himself staring at the toast, black on top.

“Shit,” he huffs, already reaching his hand inside. _“Shit!”_ He retracts it in the next instant from the tray, shaking, and breathes in deep. Right. Of course it was hot. _Of course-_

He presses his hand close to his chest. A quick glance didn’t reveal anything else he could use to remove the tray. After another heavy moment, mind racing for a solution, he leans over and turns the oven off. The lights click out. His hand falls away from the door, leaving it ajar. 

A stab of pain has him moving over to the sink, reaching out with his uninjured hand to turn the faucet on. It smacks against his open water bottle along the way, dropping it to the floor. Sabo stares, eyes wide, as water covers the tile at his feet. 

God. _God_.

_I’m such a fucking mess._

A lump forms in his throat. He puts his hand under the cool water, the other curling on the side of the sink. His head drops into his neck.

A choked sob leaves him before he knows it. Another, and then he’s crying, and the hand grasping the porcelain of the sink trembles. He hunches over it, knees weak, and his eyes slip shut. 

After a while, he reaches up to turn the sink off. His hand is puffy, but there’s no blisters, that he can tell.

Sabo finally lets himself fall to the ground. Water soaks the edges of his clothes. He leans his head against the cabinets, shoulders shaking. 

It’s a long time before he finally calms down. There’s a frown pressed into the crease of his lips, and he holds it there, convinces himself to keep it together. He rolls the wet ends of his pants up, biting his lip to keep from wincing at the sting of his hand. He digs around in drawers until he finds a potholder, and removes the tray from the oven, dumping the burnt toast into the trash before tossing it in the sink. He picks up the empty water bottle and throws it away, then moves to the bathroom to grab a towel. Once he’s done mopping up the water, he’s left with a soaked towel only to realize he didn’t know what to do with it. A thought surfaces, about how his dirty clothes seemed to vanish without him bothering to notice. He didn’t know where Ace kept them all. There wasn’t a washer unit in the apartment, so that wasn’t an option.

He finally decides to dump the towel in the bathtub, reminding himself to ask later.

Sabo definitely doesn’t feel like trying to cook again. He retreats back to the bedroom instead, where he didn’t have to think about the smell with the door closed.

The Ziprasidone sits on the table, forgotten.

-

Ace gets home from school around four. He finds Sabo playing around with his phone, so it doesn’t take much to convince him to get dressed and go to hook it up to a data plan with him.

He tries not to think hard about how the blond was still in his sleepwear.

After they finish, the first person Sabo texts is Lami. He shows Ace the response on their way home, and he smiles as he glances at it.

 **[ 17:50 ]** thanks for the phone

 **[ 17:53 ]** Yeah!!   
**[ 17:53 ]** Hmu sometime, we can hangout again!

Sabo makes a noise as his phone _pings_ again. “She works at a hospital?”

“Yeah.” Ace’s arms cross over the steering wheel as he turns into the complex. “She’s a radiologist.” Sabo hums, and Ace continues as he pulls into a parking spot. “Law’s a surgeon at the same place.”

“I think I knew that,” Sabo says, voice quiet. Ace pauses in his motion to turn the car off.

 _From the party? No. Maybe._ Was he starting to remember? That probably . . wasn‘t good.

“Luffy told you?” he suggests, finally turning the keys. Sabo bobs his head.

“Yeah, must have.”

Inside, Sabo sets his phone down and pulls Ace to the bathroom. He picks up a towel spread out in the bathtub and looks at Ace pointedly, like he was having information withheld from him.

“Where do I put this?” He squeezes out a corner, water falling into the tub. Ace blinks.

“Oh, where do I-” He breaks off. Resists the urge to laugh. “What’s with the look? If you wanted to know, you could’ve asked me before.”

“I didn’t think about it until today,” Sabo grumbles.

Ace bends down, still smiling, and opens the cabinets underneath the sink. A laundry bin was inside. “Here. I’d let it dry a little more, though.” His brows raise. “Why’s it soaked?” That might have been exaggerating, it was damp at most, but it had been at one point, clearly.

“I dropped it in the water.”

Ace stands back up, closing the cabinet doors. “You took a bath?”

“Yeah.” Sabo’s eyes shift away. Ace doesn’t notice.

He does notice the baking sheet in the sink. And the bread in the trash. The dots connect themselves, but he figures that the house wasn’t burned down, so he’d leave it alone.

“Have you eaten?” he calls into the living room. 

“Make something?” Sabo responds. There’s shuffling, and Ace backtracks to watch as the blond moves around the room. After a moment he catches Ace’s gaze, stops. His shoulders drop. 

“I lost my phone,” Sabo sighs.

Ace knows where it is, but he pulls his own out of his jacket a moment later. “Let me call it.”

Sabo looks less than thrilled, but Ace has his own motives. He wanted to see the ringtone the blond set, see if it would cause any problems. A noise comes from the entryway, and Ace moves toward it, Sabo following.

The phone is right by the door. A low, light sound comes from it that gives Ace pause, allows Sabo to overtake him. It definitely wasn’t anything he thought Sabo would’ve picked out, but he also realized how distinctive it sounded. Unassuming. It was a ringtone, and as he thought more into it, couldn’t be mistaken for anything else.

Sabo shuffles past him, phone off. “Thanks,” he mutters.

The evening passes without issue. They eat, Sabo takes his medicine, they climb into bed. Sabo unplugs Ace’s broken alarm clock to fit his phone’s charger. He lies his head right next to Ace’s, again. It’s not until after Ace has closed his eyes does Sabo shift, moving right below Ace’s chin, and he smiles, arms going a little tighter, but he doesn’t pull him any closer. 

“Goodnight,” Sabo whispers, calm. He doesn’t move any closer. 

“Yeah,” Ace replies, voice a low hum. 

-

Sabo is shaking.

Ace isn’t a light sleeper. He’s still pulled awake as Sabo trembles in his arms.

He’s still asleep, Ace acknowledges. _Bad dream?_ But Sabo’s not saying anything, or crying out. His face is barely pinched. “Sabo,” he murmurs. He doesn’t get a reply.

He moves his arms away and Sabo’s breath hitches. Ace sits up a little, bends back down, hands on either side of Sabo. “Sabo,” he tries again. His face ducks down. “Sabo,” he repeats.

There. The shaking stops as Sabo stiffens. His eyes peel open, slowly, as he gains awareness. “Ace . .” he breathes.

“Nightmare?” Ace murmurs. Sabo doesn’t reply. His arms encircle him, pull him down closer, and Ace sets his forehead against his before a collision can happen. Ace curls his hands into the sheets, accepting his new position. Sabo’s breath stutters and his heart catches. “It’s okay,” he finds himself saying. “I’m right here.”

Sabo doesn’t let go for a long time.

-

Sabo wakes to the sound of ringing.

 _An alarm_ , he faintly acknowledges, and then his mind jumpstarts. The alarm goes silent, the ringing still a fresh echo in his head, and he sits up and is out of bed in the next moment. 

“Where are you going?” Ace says, slowly.

Sabo stops walking. He takes a moment, looking around. “This isn’t . .” _The base_.

“You’re home,” Ace says from behind him. The sheets shuffle as he sits up. “You were discharged.”

Sabo hates how his words were slow. Like he needed to process them. Like he was lost. Like he was confused. 

He _was_ , but.

He calms himself down. Ace was trying to help. There was no reason to get mad at him.

Sabo waits another long moment before turning back around. Ace is still watching him as he settles back on the bed.

“My bad,” he says, and Sabo turns to stare at him. Why would he need to apologize?

“I didn’t wake up before it went off. I’ll change it.”

Sabo’s eyes narrow. He breathes out a sigh. “Ace, you don’t have to do that.” He holds up a hand before the other can speak again. “No. Listen, that wasn’t a bad reaction. It was just . . . routine. It hasn’t even been a week, okay? I just need some time to get used to things. It’s like the vibrating -if I don’t get a chance to adjust around it, then I never will.” He lets his shoulders drop. “Don’t change it. Please?”

“Okay.” He hears Ace breathe out more than he can see -it’s still pretty dark. “Sorry.”

“Are you leaving?” Sabo asks.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He settles back down. “I’m going back to sleep.”

-

Ace glances up as the door opens and Cornelia slips through, off-colored hair tied low on her back that day. They share a nod before she slips off to her own corner of the lab, and Ace finally spares a look to the time.

It’s after nine.

Ace drops what he’s doing and digs out his phone. That late already, huh? He hadn’t meant to wait this long.

Sabo answers on the third ring, voice barely there. _“Hello?”_

“Hey. Did I wake you?”

 _“I’m up.”_ A pause. _“I might go back to sleep, though.”_

“You okay?”

_“I just feel tired.”_

Ah. “It’s the medicine,” Ace tells him. “Speaking of which, you should take it soon.”

_“Right. Thanks.”_

“Yeah.” Well, he said that. Not that Ace minded reminding him, but he hadn’t figured out what Sabo’s deal was. He didn’t seem adverse to taking it, but he wasn’t exactly enthusiastic, either. Maybe he’d ask him, when he got home.

“Call me if you need anything,” he murmurs. Sabo thanks him again, and then he’s met with the dialtone. Ace puts his phone away again.

“Who was that?” Cornelia asks, not looking up from her work, voice coming from across the empty room. Ace doesn’t jump, but it takes all his effort not to. He hadn’t been expecting the question.

“Roommate,” he says shortly. Breathy laughing comes from behind him, and he turns to see Deuce eyeing him from another area of the room. He hadn’t even noticed him come in.

“If you need a cover, you gotta come up with a better one,” Deuce says. “Your place only has one bedroom.”

Cornelia hums in acknowledgement, picking up a report. Ace’s face colors. “Asshole,” he finally mutters, turning back to his work.

“Figured you’d thank me,” Deuce says, mock-hurt. “We don’t care, but you should fix your story for those that will.”

“He’s just a friend.”

“You don’t talk to ‘just a friend’ like that. At least, _you_ don’t.”

“What’s his name?” Cornelia asks, and Ace gives up on work for the moment. 

“Sabo.”

Her face piques in recognition. “The same you got from the airport, the other day?”

Oh. He had mentioned a name, huh? “Yeah.” 

“You got pics?”

Cornelia grunts. “Enough, Deuce.”

 _Thank you._ “Is everything finalized for the project?”

“I dropped it off earlier,” she mentions. “Out of our hands now.”

Great. No, that wasn’t fair. He knew they’d done good work. His phone buzzes and he grapples for it, eager for the distraction. He doesn’t miss the two pairs of eyes now on his, but elects to ignore it.

 **[ sabo ]** come home for lunch?

He bites his lip, glances at the clock. He could- Could he do that? It’d depend on how much he could get done, before his afternoon class. _I’ll try_ , he texts back, and then gets back to work for real, a motivation now driving him.

-

Sabo takes his uniform from his backpack, folded, and shoves it deep into the closet where he’d never have to look at it again. He considers doing the same with the backpack, but it was nondescript and all he had, so he takes it and puts it away properly, where he could grab it when needed.

His phone rings and he snatches it up, answers it quickly, all thoughts on Ace.

The voice that greets him is not one he expects.

_“I’m getting discharged.”_

“Koala?” Her words catch up to him. “Wait- why?”

A sigh. _“You didn’t think I’d stay without you, did you?”_

He kinda did. “When?”

_“A week. I’ll see you then?”_

“Yeah, okay, sure.”

_“Great! Gotta go.”_

“Bye-” The dialtone cuts him off, and Sabo stars into space for a moment, thinking. 

-

Ace doesn’t message him back.

The hours tick by. Sabo gets antsy around twelve. It’s after two, now. He’s worried Ace may be in class, or he’d call again. The news about Koala has him restless. He didn’t wanna lie around the house all day -he needed to do something.

The door opens. Ace shuffles in, looking worse-for-wear. Sabo sits up on the couch and he jumps, not expecting him. He settles after a moment, pressing a hand to his heart. “Jeez,” he mumbles.

“Sorry,” Sabo says, not sorry at all. He resists the urge to ask what took so long. He didn’t know Ace’s schedule. Instead he stands up and moves closer. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” Ace spins his car keys around his finger. “We can go somewhere, but I need to be back at school by three, so we have to hurry.” 

“That’s fine.”

They end up at a fastfood place, a big plate of chicken strips and french fries and sauces between them. Ace picks through the food, but Sabo feels so lively. Sabo feels like he can run a marathon. He has to keep himself from inhaling everything, tapping his fingers against his thigh, mind running like a whirlwind.

A harsh _bang_ makes him look to the end of the table. Ace stops eating as he follows his gaze. “Sabo?” he asks, unsure, and Sabo’s gaze snaps back to him as he realizes there wasn’t actually a noise.

“Uh, sorry,” he mutters, now a little more subdued. 

“You have a lot of energy today,” Ace notes.

“I guess.”

Ace eyes him for another minute while Sabo keeps his gaze anywhere else. _“Fourteen,”_ he hears the worker at the counter call. He turns around, because they had been thirteen, and no one else had come in after them.

There’s not anyone standing at the counter.

Sabo turns back slowly. Ace slides a pair of keys across the table.

“I meant to give you those before,” he says, as Sabo looks up. “For the house. Why don’t you go for a run? I’ll text you the address, so you can find your way back.” Sabo stands up and Ace smiles, tired. “Now? I thought you wanted to see me.”

Sabo sits back down. “I wanted something to do,” he admits.

“Ah. Using me, hm?”

He snorts, picking up another fry. “You figured me out.”

Ace clutches his heart. “I’m hurt,” he deadpans. Then, with a touch more emotion, “Call me if you need it.”

 _I trust you_ , Sabo hears. _I’m letting you out, alone._

“I won’t, but thanks.”

Ace rolls his eyes. “It’s supposed to rain later. Make sure you’re home before then.”

“Got it.” He smiles. “Thanks.” 

Ace waves him off. “I meant to do it before-”

“No, for this,” Sabo interrupts, gesturing to the food. “I know you’re busy.”

If he didn’t know better, he’d say Ace’s cheeks colored, just a little. “It’s nothing,” he mumbles, turning away. “I gotta go soon.”

“You’ll be back later?”

“Yeah. I’ll try and leave at five.”

Sabo smiles. “I’ll be there, waiting.”

-

Walking quickly turns into running, and when Sabo turns into a residential area, he sprints down the sidewalk, not a care in the world. There’s no traffic to stop him and no one around to stare, and he takes that freedom and holds on tight.

He doesn’t know how long he spends running. When he stops he’s panting, hunched over.

When he stops he’s in a shopping district.

Sabo’s a bit surprised to have ended up such a long way away. He knows he can make it back to the apartment, with the address and his phone handy, but he hadn’t meant to go so far. He looks up, still catching his breath, and glances left and right, trying to figure where to go from here.

There’s a little girl on a bench to the left of him. She’s crying.

Sabo thinks she’s crying. He hears snuffling, and she’s hunched over, so it’s his best guess. His high wears off some, and he straightens, hesitates for a moment.

Just for a moment. Then he’s moving over, until he’s crouched in front of the bench. The sniffling stops. “Um . .” He bites his lip. “Hey, you okay? Are you lost?”

The girl looks up, wary, but she nods. “Lost,” she mumbles. Her face is wet. 

Sabo stands back up and looks around, but there’s no one actively searching around them. He pulls out his phone. “Do you want me to call someone?”

“Don’t know the number,” she mumbles. She looks like she’s about to cry again. Sabo settles back down on his heels, putting the phone away.

“Who were you with?”

“Mom.”

“Do you know where you got lost?”

She nods. “Store.” 

Well. That wasn’t exactly helpful, but it was a starting point. He holds out a hand. “Want me to take you there?”

She eyes him for a minute, looking from his face to his outstretched hand. “Okay,” she finally says, letting Sabo pull her from the bench. She has a little purse crossed over her body, hanging near her waist. It’s in the shape of a heart, and it rattles as she stands. Sabo’s eyes fall to it as he gets up, and she puts her free hand over it, watching him.

“You can’t have it,” she says, and Sabo blinks, her meaning lost on him. Then it clicks, and he turns his head to laugh, shoulders shaking from the effort to conceal it.

“I don’t want it,” he tells her, but it still takes a bit until she lets go.

He leads her further into the shopping district, eyeing the stores as they pass. Most of them have the same build, only the signs different, but there were a few that stood out. “Do you remember what it looked like?”

“Big,” she answers. “And red.”

Well, nothing like that fit here. He couldn’t come up with one off the top of his head, either, that would match the description. “Big long or big tall?”

“Tall.” Sabo walks slow so she can keep pace, but she starts swinging their joined hands between them, and speeds up just a little, so he’s the one being tugged along. “Tall and red.”

“What kind of store?”

“An everything store.”

Department store, maybe. That was his best guess. “What’s your mom’s name?” he asks, and immediately she breaks, turning her head up to eye him oddly.

“Mom,” she answers. 

“Right,” Sabo sighs. 

The area isn’t open, so they wind through the paths, around all the stores clustered together. There’s still not any tall buildings, and Sabo doesn’t know what to make of that. Was the store even close by? How far had she walked, to end up this far away?

Maybe Ace would know what the store was. He considers calling, but it doesn’t take that long to drop the idea. Ace said he would be in class. It would be best not to disturb him. That didn’t leave him with many options.

“Do you want me to call the police?” Sabo asks. “They could hel-”

“No!” 

Sabo stops as the girl does, working to keep the surprise off his face at her outburst. She looks sorry, if anything.

“No,” she repeats, quieter. Her shoulders hunch. “I don’t like them.”

“Okay,” he finds himself saying. He squeezes her hand, just a little. “I won’t call them. Promise.”

He’d dealt with this, before. Little kids being scared or distant around authority. It’d been commonplace, but he’d never imagine he’d have to deal with it back home. Maybe that had been a bit presumptuous of him. 

A rumbling overhead catches him off-guard, makes him stumble. He stops walking to turn his eyes up, watching the dark clouds roll closer. Thunder rumbled again, from further away, but it sounded just like the takeoff of a helicopter, or-

“Are you okay?”

He turns his gaze down. The girl is looking at him. Her fingers tighten around his, and he realizes his hand is shaking. 

“Yeah,” he manages. “Sorry.”

“You don’t look okay.” She frowns. “You don’t have to be.”

 _You don’t have to be._ He swallows. 

“It’s going to rain soon.” She turns away, attention back on the clouds. Sabo’s heart is still pounding against his chest. She tugs on his hand. “I don’t wanna get all wet. Let’s hurry.”

He doesn’t say anything else. They round the last of the buildings, nearly out of the area, when they both see the building across the street. Tall, red -it certainly fit the description. The girl points to it, a new bounce in her step .”Oh! That’s it!”

He attempts a smile. “Great.” They’re out of the maze of stores, now, and he lets her walk faster towards the road. His eyes scan it, find it’s not busy. Still, with their slow pace . .

The girl lets out a gasp as they hit sidewalk and Sabo swings her up. He glances both ways again, but they were clear, for the moment. He doesn’t waste another second, jogging across the four-lane. In his arms, the girl throws her arms out longways. “Weeee!” she calls, laughing.

Sabo sets her down again on the other side of the road. She’s still giggling as her feet hit the pavement.

“That was fun-” She breaks off, eyes crossing, and then grabs Sabo’s hand, pulling towards the department store. “I felt rain on my nose! Hurry, hurry!”

Her energy is infectious, and it works to quell his heart. Sabo smiles, resisting a laugh of his own, and lets her pull him along. The parking lot is pretty big, and they stop for a moment to let a car pass. She starts jumping as he pulls her aside, and he waves to the driver with his free hand as they pull past.

When they make it to the front, though, she breaks out of his hold. “Thanks, mister!” she says, voice loud. Sabo hums, still smiling.

“Are you sure she’s still in here? Should I help you look?”

She waves him off. “I got it. Promise!” She waves to him. “Bye, now! Thanks again!” And then she moves straight through the glass of the doors.

Sabo’s smile freezes on his face. He stands there for a long moment.

Then, slowly, he forces his legs to move forward. A few steps away, the automatic doors clang open for him. He stops. 

So they did work.

So . .

Sabo closes his eyes, inhales. The doors shutter closed again. His face goes red.

He moves away sharply, stepping out from under the awning, his hands shaking at his sides. It’s already raining, droplets splattering into his hair. Sabo throws his hood up, but he doesn’t stop moving, well across the parking lot, ignoring all the looks cast his way, suddenly well aware of what he’d looked like before, hand clenched around nothing but air, talking to someone who-

“Stupid!” he whispers. He puts his shaking hands in his pockets.

It takes him a long time to make it home.

-

Sabo answers the door, and his face is one full of anger.

Ace blinks, but it doesn’t seem to be directed at him, and he’s out of the rain, so he stands there and watches as the expression slowly shifts to something more calm.

“I gave you both keys,” Ace begins, taking a step forward. Sabo moves out of the way to let him in. He casts him a glance as he passes. “Sorry, I’ll take one ba- Why are you soaking wet?”

Sabo pauses, the door squeaking as he halts its progress. His shoulders move up. “Didn’t make it back in time,” he mutters.

Ace slings off his jacket, hanging it up in the hall. Sabo finally shuts the door. “When did you get back?”

“Not long ago.”

Ace gives him a curious stare, but doesn’t pry anymore. He shucks his shoes off, moves until his socked feet hit the warm carpet. “Tea.”

Sabo looks up. “What?”

“Tea. I’ll make some. Go change into something warmer.”

Sabo still looks disgruntled, and Ace wants to know, but he doesn’t want to stir anything up, either. He doesn’t want Sabo glaring at him again, intentional or not. 

When he comes into the kitchen, Ace already has the boiling water moved from the stove. He pours them both a good cup, then sets the tea bags into them. “Raspberry peach,” he says, as he finds Sabo’s questioning gaze on him. “It’s good, I promise.”

“I trust you.” He reaches out and Ace hands him the mug. Before he grabs it, though, he sticks his other hand forward, taking it with both. 

“Let it steep for a few minutes,” Ace tells him, turning back to grab his own mug. A _crash_ makes him look up. The tea is spreading before Sabo’s feet. The mug is shattered, pieces resting in the liquid.

“Shit!” Sabo whispers, sharp. Ace sets his mug down on the counter and moves forward. He grabs Sabo’s shoulder and pulls him back, away from the mess. 

His hands are shaking.

Sabo’s watching them. When he sees where Ace is looking, he clenches his hands together, trying to get them to stop trembling. “Sorry,” he says shortly.

Ace releases his shoulder to cup his hands in his own, squeezing. “How long?” he asks, keeping his voice quiet.

“It hasn’t been this bad-” Sabo starts, but he’s not answering the question, so Ace cuts him off.

“Sabo.” His words are slow. He squeezes the shaking hands, again. Brings them to his chest. Sabo’s breath catches at the action. He looks up until he’s meeting azure eyes, and continues to watch as they flick away, until Sabo finally holds his gaze. Something breaks in his face. “You don’t have to deal with this. There’s medicine you can get.” Sabo opens his mouth but Ace continues, not letting him speak. “You really should go see a psychologist.”

Sabo’s face settles. He closes his mouth. The tension he’d built up slowly releases. “Okay.”

-

Ace puts Sabo on the couch before moving to clean up the mess. When he finally steps into the living room, Sabo is still there, knees curled to his chest. He looks up as Ace comes in, specifically at the mug he’s carrying.

Ace settles himself next to Sabo. He glances at the blond’s hands, still cupped together on his legs, and casts him a questioning look.

“Its calmed down,” Sabo replies, voice muted. He sounds tired. Even if he didn’t, Ace can see it in his face. The high from the afternoon was definitely gone. 

“Try this,” Ace says, holding out the mug. Sabo starts to reach for it and Ace shakes his head. “Let me.”

His brows furrow. “Why? I’m not gonna-”

“I know.” Ace smiles. “I want to.”

Sabo’s face tinges red. He doesn’t reply verbally, only moves his hands back, tips his face up. Ace scoots closer, until he has the tea at Sabo’s lips, and moves it back once he’s swallowed a good amount.

“It’s good,” Sabo says, after a moment. 

“Still warm, too.” He pushes it into Sabo’s hands. “Here. Take it. Don’t give me that look -I made it for you in the first place.” He rises off the couch. “I’ll be back.”

He returns with a blanket in his hands, unfolding it and gesturing for Sabo to lean forward. Carefully, mindful of the tea, he wraps it around Sabo’s shoulders, settling a knee between Sabo’s feet to bend down on the couch. “Good?” Sabo nods, taking another sip of the tea. “Good.” He moves forward more, rests his arms on Sabo’s knees. 

After a minute, Sabo sighs, rolling his eyes. He drops his legs so they’re criss-crossed, Ace scrambling to maintain his balance. “Just come up here,” he murmurs, and then Ace is grinning, pushing himself up onto the couch until he’s sat on Sabo’s lap.

“You’re right. This is better.” Sabo rolls his eyes again. He offers Ace the mug. 

“Tea?”

Ace hums, takes a sip. He leans forward a little as he gives it back. “I’ll leave you my laptop tomorrow,” he starts. Sabo blinks, lost, before recognition sets in the next moment. “You can do some research of your own. Do you know how?”

“Do I know how to use the internet?”

Ace laughs. “Right. Stupid question.”

“Are you sure you don’t need it?”

“I’ll be fine.” But that’s not a _no_ and Sabo still looks unsure, so Ace breathes out a sigh, leans forward until his forehead rests against Sabo’s, until he has no choice but to look back. “I don’t need it.”

Sabo nods, just a little. “Okay,” he says, and his breath is warm against Ace’s lips.

The next moment he brings the mug up for another sip, forcing Ace to move back. Ace’s lips dip up. He moves his head away.

“Thank you.”

He turns back at Sabo’s next words. Nothing follows them. “For . . ?”

Sabo shrugs. “Everything, I guess. I don’t think I’ve thanked you, yet.”

“Yeah.” He watches as Sabo’s eyes droop and slowly tugs the mug from his grip. “You’re welcome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my hand is fucked (again) so i used a google voiceover thing to edit this one bc i rly felt like posting something again. its not that im not working on stuff, its more that i keep jumping to different fics whenever my muse hits and so nothing gets finished and then i get hurt again and i cant work on anything at all :/ its been... a very frustrating year, to say the least. i dont know when my hand will get better but im still sitting on over half this fic so if i need to i can jus edit another chunk and post it. problem is im getting to the part where i skipped scenes to write the next part that my muse felt for, so if i get to those and i cant write then... i cant fill in the blank, and i cant post until i do. i'll jus see how it goes i guess. hope you guys enjoy this part.


	6. descend again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im making good enough progress on two other drafts and told myself i could write what i rly wanted tonight, and i missed writing sa content so much so i filled in the scenes for this part and here it is, a little early. i probably have abt 2 chapters worth of content left from last year, so when i start this again in nov, there will be at least two updates that month.
> 
> hope everyone is doing okay!! ppl are stupid out here where i am and now all the hospitals are in full capacity w covid patients so things are abt to change again. hopefully everyone is having a better time than me. anyway, enjoy the show !
> 
>  **tw for panic attack** , starts @ 'a tap comes on his right shoulder' and goes till 'ace's eyes narrow'

_ “Go see Dr. Kureha.” _

Sabo pauses his typing to grab the phone shoved between his shoulder and chin. “Kureha?”

_ “Yeah, she was my old psychiatrist, back when I was younger. Pretty good, though she’s a bit . . different, I guess. Oh, and she’s not cheap.” _

“Great,” Sabo mutters, because wasn’t that the problem with this all. “Maybe someone else, then.”

_ “At least search her up. Besides, you’re a vet now, right? See if someone else will pay for it.” _

He moves his phone back to his shoulder, tired of typing with one hand. She did make a good point. He hadn’t thought of that before. “Last name?”

_ “Yeah, good question.”  _ A laugh sounds in his ear.  _ “It’s been a long time. Actually, I’m not sure if she ever used one?” _

That was . . .

He frowns, but searches the name anyway. He’s surprised when he finds a hit pretty handily. “She’s old?”

_ “Oh yeah. Had long, grey hair when I saw her. She’s probably ancient by now.” _

“I think I just found her,” Sabo mutters. “Good thing she’s still operating.”

_ “Is there a number?” _

“There is.”

_ “Then give it a call. The least you can do is ask, see how it goes. No harm in that.” _

She was right. “Okay,” he sighs, giving in. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

_ “Bye, Sabo!” _

“Bye, Koala.”

-

_ “Doctor Kureha’s office.” _

“Uh, hi.” Sabo chews on his lip, suddenly nervous. Where did he even-

_ “Hi! How can I help you?” _

-begin. He sighs, then tenses, knowing it was audible through the phone. “Um.” Sabo closes his eyes. “I need an appointment, I guess.”

There’s typing in his ear. Then-  _ “For?” _

Right. That would be something he’d have to verbalize. “I’m -retired military,” he stammers. “Was diagnosed with schizophrenia just before I left. I have a prescription, but it’s making me shake too much.”

_ “Tremors?” _ The voice doesn’t wait for his response before continuing.  _ “What’s the medication?” _

“Ziprasidone. It’s only good until the end of the month.”

_ “So you need a new script, too. Okay. What’s the name?” _

“Sabo Triste.”

_ “Okay. She actually has a slot open in a few days, at two. Does that work?” _

“Uh, sure.”

_ “Can you be here an hour before to fill out paperwork?” _

“I guess.”

_ “Great! I’ll set you for then. Is this a good contact number? Just for if I need anything before the appointment.” _

“Yeah, it is.”

_ “Okay, I’ll mark you down then. My name’s Tony. If you need anything else, just call back.” _

“Yeah-” He blinks as he’s met with a dialtone, slowly moving his phone around to see the call disconnected. Wow, they sure didn’t waste time. He got caught up in the pace, too, he forgot to ask about costs and all that. Sighing, he brings up his contact list, calling a new number.

_ “Sabo?” _

“Hey. I got an appointment at the end of the week.”

_ “Oh, really? That was fast. With who?” _

“Kureha?”

_ “Okay. What time?” _

“Uh, one.” He sighs. “Sorry, I didn’t think about-”

_ “Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ll make time. This is important.”  _ Ace’s voice grows quieter.  _ “You doing okay today?” _

“Yeah.” 

_ “Good. That’s good. We can talk more about the appointment when I get back. Was that it?” _

“That was it. I’ll let you go.”

_ “Okay. Call if you need anything else.” _

-

Sabo wakes with a gasp and a seize, but they’re both quiet. His arms barely jolt, brushing his sides. His mouth opens wide but no sound comes out.

He lies there for a moment, staring up into the dark, breathing. He’s by himself. No.

He’d slipped into bed after Ace, after he’d gone to sleep. Curled up on his own side, afraid of waking the other, barely avoiding going to sleep on the couch only by the notion that Ace would be upset in the morning, when he found out. He tips his head to look, but Ace is still sleeping soundly, thank god.

Sabo turns away from him, trying to settle down again. He couldn’t even remember what he’d dreamed about. It wasn’t worth the effort. It was still dark. It would-

Sabo bites down on his lip, hard. Actually. He didn’t think it would be okay.

-

Sabo can’t sleep.

He yawns again, into his shirt sleeve. He shuts his bleary eyes. He tells his racing heart to take a break. He tells the pounding heartbeat in his ears to fucking stop.

He’s exhausted, but he’s also wired enough that it doesn’t matter. 

His mind is filled with so much dread and anxiety, and he doesn’t know why. The dream, probably, but. And. 

It’s like. Like  _ anticipation _ , almost. Like he’s expecting something very soon but he doesn’t know what and he doesn’t know exactly when, and the premonition of it all has him on edge.

Sabo feels his nose run. He sniffs but it doesn’t stop, and he cups a hand underneath, suddenly knowing what it was.

He’s quick to rise, casting a glance back to Ace, but he was still asleep. Sabo is quiet as he leaves the room, padding over to the bathroom and flicking on the light. He leans over the sink and removes his hand from his nose, and immediately blood drips down to the drain. He sighs, leaning forward more.

He used to get nosebleeds all the time when he lived here. Too much dry weather, someone had concluded. It had been ages since he had one.

Turning on the sink to let the water flush the blood away, Sabo wipes the excess from his face, then scrubs at his hand. He plugs his nose with toilet paper before he can get rid of the fuzzies the light was causing his eyes, then turns it off completely, coming out into the living room.

He glances back to the bedroom door, then decides on the couch. He wasn’t going to sleep. Might as well do something else.

But there wasn’t really much to do. His phone was in the bedroom, and he didn’t want to turn on the kitchen light to find anything. Even with his pajamas, it’s cold on the couch. Sabo lies down and curls up and shivers and hates it. His eyes shut but they open far too soon. He gets up and starts pacing between the couches, but soon that grows too tiring, so he resorts to sitting on the couch, his head in his hands. He’s shaking. He can’t stop shaking.

He doesn’t remember the dream. He remembers blood and a shock of hair and a faint graze of whiskers, but he doesn’t remember what it was  _ about. _

He scrunches his eyes shut,  _ hard, _ beneath his hands. His mouth opens, releases a yawn. 

He feels so tired. Why can’t he just

“You look beat.”

Sabo throws his head up, eyes wide. He looks around in the dark, but he doesn’t find a body to match the voice. His heartbeat thunders in his ears.

A tap comes on his right shoulder and he maneuvers out of the hold, turns to stare as Lindbergh climbs down from the top of the couch, down to the cushions right beside Sabo. “Yeah, you don’t look so good,” says the same voice from earlier, coming right from his mouth. Sabo sucks in a breath, eyes glued to Lindbergh. He feels like he could cry. Like there’s panic and build-up and he’s really about to cry and it’ll be loud and Ace will come and Sabo will still be here crying because Lindbergh will still be here, staring at him, begging for him to react, acting like he’s alive when he isn’t.

A tap comes on his left shoulder and Sabo turns his head away sharply, moving until he’s facing Ace, leaning over the couch, moving his hand back once he sees the reaction it causes. Sabo sees who it is and covers his face with his hands again. “No, no, you’re not real you’re not here you’re not real you’re not real none of this is real-” And his words dissolve into unintelligible mutterings and his hands are shaking on his face and he can still feel the weight of Lindbergh on the couch cushions.

Ace breathes sharp and steps forward. “Sabo,” he bites out, careful. He reaches forward, but stops, watching for another moment. Wary. “Sabo,” he says again. “It’s okay.”

He doesn’t seem to hear Ace.

“I-I’m grabbing your shoulder,” Ace announces, voice unintentionally yet upsettingly loud in the silence, and finally reaches forward with his hand. It lands on Sabo’s shoulder and he  _ jerks _ but not enough to knock Ace’s hand away, and he breathes in and reaches out again. “I’m grabbing your other shoulder,” he says, because he doesn’t want to not say anything and cause more of a panic.

Sabo  _ jerks _ again under Ace’s hold, and his nails dig into his forehead. “I’m here,” Ace says, but Sabo can barely hear him. “I’m real, I promise.” He squeezes down on Sabo’s skin and Sabo leans into the hold, not quite acknowledging it but wanting it anyway, and he wheezes and his eyes swell and he leans forward, until his head collides with Ace’s chest and he’s thrusting his head up, peering through his hands to make sure he’s got the right person.

He meets Ace’s eyes and can’t quite swallow the cry that bubbles in his throat. Terror grips him, and he doesn’t dare turn to the right, knowing what he’ll see if he does, knowing he doesn’t want that, doesn’t want to see, and the thought nearly has him hyperventilating, and Ace looks so confused but he looks like he wants to take away all of Sabo’s worries, and he grabs onto that, hard.  _ Tight. _

Sabo jumps up from the couch, out of Ace’s hold, and his arms fall to wrap around his chest, hugging his back tight. He starts sliding, feeling his legs give out, and buries his face into Ace’s shirt. “Don’t-” he stammers. “Don’t leave,  _ please, _ please I don’t know what to do, I don’t want to see him, please  _ please _ please-” He breaks off, the cry finally tearing from his throat, and he sags more, and Ace adjusts so he won’t fall and topple them both, and Sabo’s crying for real now, hoping  _ praying _ that Lindbergh doesn’t speak and that Ace stays in front of him and that he doesn’t have to  _ see. _

Sabo is so tired. He wishes he could just go to sleep.

Ace tries to say something and Sabo tightens his grip, fearing that he’d let- “Go,” he gasps. “Let’s go, let’s go please let’s go anywhere get me out g-” Ace turns in his hold, wrenching in his grip and Sabo gasps again as his face is bared and he realizes he never shut his eyes even thought he’s so utterly terrified and then in the next moment Ace’s arms wrap around his head and push Sabo into his chest,  _ hard, _ and hold him there tight, and Sabo squeezes his arms back tight, still muttering, still saying things that don’t make sense, unable to process anything internally so he just spits out whatever comes to mind-

Ace starts sinking, trying to lower them to the ground, and Sabo nearly has a conniption. He digs his feet into the ground, halting the motion, and then works one back, and then another, jerkily leading them back to the bedroom, and away from the couch, and away from Li-

He grits his teeth and sobs and crumples, right by the bed, and Ace falls with him, still holding him impossibly tight. Sabo cries so loud and so long, and he thinks his nose is bleeding again, and slowly Ace moves to card his hand through Sabo’s hair. Slowly, after a long time, he works an arm down and starts rubbing Sabo’s back, trying to console him. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t question anything. He lets Sabo cry and hide from things he cannot see, and he waits until the wailing peters out, until it turns into forced gasps for breath, until he tries to release and Sabo  _ grips, _ breath hitching, and Ace stops again. He waits until, finally, Sabo calms down enough to release him from his panicked death grip, and he can look down and-

Ace’s eyes narrow.

It wasn’t that Sabo had calmed down. He’d passed out. He didn’t release Ace -he’d gone limp. That was. He swallows. That was.

Ace reaches out with his foot and kicks the door shut. He stays on the floor for another moment, shuttering in a breath. Then he gathers Sabo in his arms again and picks him up enough to put him in the bed, pushing the both of them across until Sabo was in his place, where it was still warm, where it was further from the door, and then pulls him close and buries both of them under the covers and tries to fall back asleep.

It’s very, very hard.

-

In light of everything, Ace doesn’t go to school that day.

He sends his supervisor an email from his bed without managing to disturb the blond wrapping him in a death grip, turns his phone off, and promptly knocks the fuck out again. 

Sabo’s not happy about it, when he finds out. Ace can’t really bring himself to care. There was no way he was leaving Sabo alone after what had happened.

“I was tired,” Sabo mutters, head still halfway buried under the pillows. 

“I’ve seen you tired.” Ace was sat up now, and casts a glance down the front of his shirt, stained with a trail of dried blood. He works it off, his hair flopping as the collar caught it, and tosses it to the edge of the bed. A shiver runs through him as his skin meets the cool air of the apartment. “That was something else.”

Sabo mumbles something he can’t understand, and he turns to lift the pillow up, confirming the patch of blood on Sabo’s face he’d thought would be there. He flips the pillow toward the headboard. “When did you start having nosebleeds again?”

He leans back on his hands and Sabo’s eyes follow him -his chest, rather. He resists the upturn of his lips at this fact, wanting to remain serious. 

“Last night,” Sabo answers. It’s all he says.

Ace sighs, knowing continuing the conversation would be like pulling teeth. “Go wash your face,” he tells Sabo. “I’ll start on breakfast.”

Sabo looks utterly unimpressed at Ace’s order, but in the end, he rolls off the bed and shuffles from the room, so Ace counts it as a win. He throws on another shirt before moving to the kitchen.

His thoughts start wandering, as his eyes land on the pill bottle. Sabo took his medicine last night, right? He couldn’t remember. He’d gotten home late. He thinks Sabo took it. Should he count them? Was that going too far?

Movement behind him has him jumping. He turns to see Sabo eyeing him, gripping the handle to the fridge. He opens it after a moment, sorting through for a water, and Ace turns back to the stove.

“Is it ready?”

“Yeah.” He turns everything off, reaching for two plates.

After they’re done, he makes sure Sabo takes his medicine. He watches him do it, and Sabo frowns as he notices he’s under observation. “What?” he snaps.

“What’s your problem?” Ace snaps back, suddenly fed up. “This is supposed to help you! Why are you acting like it’s such a bother?”

Sabo glowers for all of two seconds, and then he breathes out a sigh, ducks his head. His hand comes up and rubs at his neck. “Look, it’s just hard to accept, alright?” He casts a glance to Ace. “I mean, this is the reason I was discharged. I don’t  _ want _ to be here.”

Ace’s brows raise. The statement catches him off-guard, and though he knows the true meaning behind it, he lets the more shallow definition get to him, a wave of sadness stabbing through his heart. Sabo cuts off as soon as he said the words, realizing what he’d spoken. He tries again.

“I didn’t mean-”

“I . . . know,” Ace interrupts. He slouches in his chair. “I know.”

Sabo sighs again. He runs a hand through his hair, this time. “I just wish it would do something,” he murmurs.

“It’s not going to work right away.” Ace waits until Sabo looks up at him to continue. “The paper says at least two weeks. Probably longer.”

“Oh.”

Ace finally quirks his lips up. “You really should read it. You’re the one taking it.”

“I guess,” Sabo answers. He crosses his arms on the tabletop. “So. I’m awake now. Got any grand plans for the day?”

“Yeah.” Ace stands, grabbing their empty plates. “Laundry.”

Sabo’s nose wrinkles. “Really?”

“Yeah. You got blood on my shirt. Plus, I’m free. It’s as good a time as any.”

“I guess.”

Ace throws him a smile over his shoulder. “Go get dressed, okay?”

“‘Kay,” Sabo mumbles, standing up from the table. Ace had turned back to the sink, but after a long moment, he looks back again, a bit surprised to see Sabo had left. He frowns as he resumes rinsing the dishes.

_ Has Sabo always been this quiet? _ Had he just not noticed? He didn’t hear the blond’s footsteps at all. 

-

“Aw fuck,” Ace mutters. “I forgot to spray this.”

Sabo turns around from their chosen machine to see him holding up the bloodstained shirt. A pang of guilt fills him. He bites at his lip. “Sor-”

“Hey, Ace!”

Ace looks up, and only his fast reflexes keep him from being nailed in the head by a stain stick. Sabo looks past his frame to see a little girl on top of one of the dryers, lowering her arm from the impressive throw.

“Quit saying that shit around my granddaughter,” grunts the old lady behind her. Ace scoffs, uncapping the pen. 

“You’re one to talk. Thanks, Chim!”

He swipes the stain a few times and tosses the shirt to Sabo, who puts it in with the rest. Instead of throwing it back, Ace walks it over to hand it back to the girl, who accepts it gratefully. The granny comes around to chop him on the head, and Ace howls in pain, holding the spot. Sabo smiles, knowing it was only half-real, and turns to shut the washer door.

“So. Who’s blondie?” granny says. 

“Sabo,” Ace calls. He looks up from the machine, and after a gesture from Ace, slowly makes his way over. He lets Ace sling an arm around his neck, using the same hand to point first to the little girl, and then to the granny. “This is Chimney, and that’s Kokoro.”

“Sabo?” Chimney questions, eyeing the blond with a new eye. “Hm. He looks different from what I thought.”

Sabo risks a glance at Ace. “You talked about me?”

Ace suddenly turns away, looking anywhere but at Sabo. “Uh- well.”

“Too much, if you asked me,” Kokoro grunts. Chimney starts laughing, hands on her stomach. A buzzer goes off and she pipes up, stepping over to the machine behind, where Kokoro had been before.

Sabo stiffens until the buzzer stops, and then Ace is pushing him back towards their chosen washing machine. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he mumbles, pretending to ignore Kokoro’s snickers.

He shows Sabo the settings to press, where to insert the change, and has him hit start. It immediately starts shaking, and Sabo moves back, frowning.

“Don’t worry, dear, it holds,” Kokoro calls to him as her and Chimney move past to the doors. Chimney waves to the both of them and Sabo does his best to wave back.

Ace slides to the floor proper, leaning against one of the dryers across from their chosen washer. Sabo eyes him warily, until Ace looks up.

“What? I bet you’ve sat in worse before.”

Well. He wasn’t wrong. Sabo sighs and slides down next to him. “You don’t just leave and come back?”

“Nah. I may like the people here, but I don’t trust any of ‘em.”

“Good to know,” Sabo mutters.

Ace pulls out his phone, fiddling with it for a while. Sabo watches the clothes swirl around.

“What did she think I was gonna look like?”

“Who?”

“Chimney.”

Ace looks up from his phone. His expression grows pinched. “Oh.” 

Sabo looks back. “Bad?”

“No, uh.” He drops his phone in his lap. “Kokoro’s son was military, apparently. He came home with a bunch of scars.”

Sabo blinks, automatically reaching up a hand to his shoulder. “Did you-”

“No!” Ace backs off, lowers his voice. “I didn’t. Promise. Besides, those aren’t from-” He breaks off, eyes turning away.

Sabo hums, dropping his hand. “Maybe I’ll show off for her next time.”

Ace glances over at him, almost not believing the words. Sabo catches his gaze and shrugs.

“They’re old.”

“Yeah,” Ace nods. “Just.”

The washer goes off and Ace jumps up to turn it off. They never move back to the conversation.

When they’re sat in front of the dryer, waiting for it to finish, Ace gets a text that has him frowning. Sabo leans over as he types out a reply. “What?”

“Uh, Luffy,” he mutters. “We have to pick him up once we get done here.”

Sabo leans back. “From where?”

Ace sends the reply and drops the phone to his lap so he can run his hands down his face. “The hospital?”

Sabo jerks up, suddenly more alert. “What? Why?”

Ace is already waving him off. “Don’t worry, it’s routine.”

Sabo’s brows pinch. “Is he sick?”

“No, no. It’s- Well. I’ll let him tell you himself.” Ace nods. “He’s fine, though. They wouldn’t be releasing him otherwise.”

“That’s not making me worry any less,” Sabo grumbles. 

Ace sighs, sending off another text. He bumps Sabo’s shoulder after a minute, makes him look down to see-

A picture of Luffy. Frowning. He’s sat up in a hospital bed, an IV in his arm. He’s definitely not the one who took the picture. “Law,” Ace confirms, and Sabo hums.

“He the one who told you?”

“In his exact words, ‘please come get your brother before I give him a real reason to be here’, apparently,” Ace recites. 

Sabo snorts. “Sounds like Law.”

“Yeah,” Ace mutters, pocketing his phone.

-

Sabo whistles as Ace pulls out his shirt to find it spotless. “That really worked.”

“They make their own,” Ace grunts, folding the shirt. “The stain stuff. It’s not the only thing they make, but I’ve never asked. The less you know, right?”

Against Sabo’s judgement, they were folding all their laundry before heading to the hospital. True, it would take longer to get home, and yes, had they thrown them all in, they definitely would’ve wrinkled once they were taken out again, but Sabo can’t help but worry for Luffy, despite Ace’s insistence not to. It takes far too long in his eyes to finish, and then he scoops up the basket himself and heaves it over to Ace’s trunk, sliding into the front seat soon after.

Ace waves to the receptionist and they’re both buzzed through without question. Sabo frowns, sticking close to Ace as he winds through the mess, and a string of cries from a drawn curtain has him grasping for Ace’s hand. 

Ace blinks over at him, nearly stopping, and then notices his obvious discomfort. He keeps pace, but he squeezes Sabo’s hand back. “Okay?”

“Sure,” Sabo mutters.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’”, Ace quips. Sabo turns to glare at him but Ace is pulling him forward. “Wait. Here’s your distraction.”

In one quick motion he swipes a curtain aside, revealing Luffy situated on one of the beds, chattering aimlessly with a nurse. He brightens as he catches sight of them. “Ace!”

“Hey.” Ace raises a hand to the nurse. “Thanks, Tristan.”

“Not a problem.” She rises from her seat. “Let me go get-”

“I’m here,” Law says from behind Sabo, and he works really hard not to jump. He grips Ace’s hand too tight instead, causing him to grunt in pain, and Sabo releases him in a hurry after that, stepping aside to let Law by.

“Aceee!” Luffy whines. “Tell Traffy I’m good! All I have is a sore throat, and that’s normal!”

“You left out the part where you were on oxygen for half an hour,” Law mutters, writing on a slip of paper held on his clipboard. 

Sabo’s eyes widen, and he steps forward to the other side of Luffy’s bed. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Luffy turns to look at him, then smiles cheekily. “Nah, that’s normal too. Dumb procedure, but procedure, after being in a fire and all.”

“A fire?!” Sabo bends forward, zooming his focus on Luffy’s face. “God. When? Are you sure you’re okay?”

But Luffy’s still smiling. “Yeah, I’m totally fine! I do this for a living!”

“Sabo,” Ace says, gesturing to the chair next to him. Luffy pouts, but beside him, Law looks near ready to have a conniption the longer it takes for Sabo to get it.

He turns and stares at a heavy jacket laid across the back of the chair. The design doesn’t escape his eye. When he turns back, he notices Luffy’s wearing the same pants.

His eyes widen. Luffy’s smile grows.

“You’re a firefighter?” Sabo gasps.

Luffy throws his arms above his head. “Yea! I’m a firefighter!” His loud outburst is quickly followed by a whine as he lowers his arms. “Oww, this IV hurts. Traffy!”

“Tristan, you can take it out,” Law mutters, pocketing his pen before he can snap it in half. He hands Ace the slip of paper. “Take that up front.”

“Thanks, Law,” Ace calls.

“Thanks, Traffy!” Luffy echoes.

“If surgery wasn’t so slow today, I  _ definitely _ wouldn’t be here,” he says on his way out. Ace and Luffy seem to shrug it off, so Sabo does as well. Definitely a more abrasive Law than he was used to, but if it was normal, he could adjust.

Tristan fixes Luffy’s wrist up and Ace leads them both back up front, one hand a leash, keeping Luffy from straying, the other a more comforting presence on Sabo’s back. The crying still hasn’t stopped. Sabo wonders if they’d been burned in the fire.

He’s more than relieved when they exit back out into the lobby. Ace hands the paper to the receptionist, and after a couple minutes, she waves them away.

“A firefighter,” Sabo mumbles as Luffy swings out the sliding doors past him, his heavy jacket flapping wildly in one arm.

“Yeah!” he says, throwing his head back. “Cool, right?”

“Not what I was expecting.” He faults at Luffy’s pout. “Yeah, cool.”

“‘cept when you have to pick him up from this place,” Ace mutters from up ahead. Luffy gasps, running forward to catch up with his brother.

“I know you like it! Because you woooooorry-mmph!” 

Sabo hides a chuckle as Ace clamps Luffy’s jaws shut.

“Yeah? Well you give me a right to worry.” He’s grinning when he says this, and looks over to Sabo. “Both of you.”

Sabo had been smiling, but at the remark, he sobers. All he can think is that Ace should be at school. But he’s not, because-

A jerk on his hand thrust him out of his thoughts, and he looks down to see a released Luffy pulling him along. “C’mon Sabo, where’s that smile?” he whines. He bounces the blond’s hand as he tugs him along towards the car. “Smile, smile, smile!”

He can’t help the laugh that bubbles up. Luffy perks up, too. “Ah, there it is!”

They drop Luffy back at the station before heading home, making sure he really was fine before pulling out, leaving him in the care of a rather stocky man with an impressive topknot.

“That was fun, right?” Ace asks, holding the door open for Sabo and the laundry basket. Sabo throws his head back, staring at the ceiling.

“That was exhausting,” he says, and Ace frowns as he closes the door. “I need a nap.”

“You’re not hungry?”

Sabo looks up as he sets the basket on the couch. “No.”

“Oh. Okay.” Ace waves him off. “Go take your nap, then.”

“Should I be hungry?” Sabo asks.

“How am I supposed to know? If you’re not, it’s not a big deal.”

Sabo narrows his eyes, but doesn’t press. He kicks off his shoes and moves to the bedroom, rubbing his forehead. Ace takes the laundry and puts the towels away in the bathroom first. He’d been planning on ordering delivery, pizza or something, but if Sabo wasn’t hungry yet he’d wait, find something on his own. He briefly considers leaving, picking something up, and the thought is amplified as he moves to the bedroom to find Sabo already passed out.

But. He bites his lip, shuffling over to the dresser. 

In the end, he decides against it.

He takes Sabo’s leftover fried rice and lets that heat up while he turns on his laptop. He could get  _ some _ work done, from home. Not as much as he needed, but it would have to do. 

He was more concerned about Sabo, right now. Even after how rough last night had been, him getting tired this quickly was a little concerning. 

Ace doesn’t notice the sun’s gone down until Sabo shuffles into the room, hair tousled from sleep. “I didn’t mean to sleep for that long,” he says, and Ace looks up and past him to the dark bedroom.

A glance at his laptop clock reveals it was after eight.

Sabo throws himself on the couch, scooting over until he can see the screen. “What’s this?”

“Progress charts,” Ace says absently, still thinking. “Are you hungry?”

It’s a long moment before Sabo replies. “Yeah, I think.”

“Great.” He closes out of the charts and pulls up an internet tab. “Build us a pizza.”

The laptop slides onto Sabo’s lap, and he stares at the screen for a moment, blanking. “A pizza builder.”

“Yes?”

“Okay.” He shakes his head, starts moving the cursor. “Sorry, I don’t know what I- Nevermind,” he stammers. 

Ace frowns. He really doesn’t want to bring it up, even though he probably should. The computer is back in front of him before he makes up his mind, so he elects to ignore it. If Sabo wanted to mention it, he would.

He types in the address and credit card info and sends off the order without much hassle. Sabo leans over when he catches sight of the additional comments section on the receipt. 

“‘Send the bluest boy you have?’” he mumbles. “What does that mean?”

“Oh.” Ace brings the charts back up. “You’ll see.”

-

He does see.

About an hour later, following a loud knock on the front door, Ace throws himself up and hurries to answer. Sabo takes his time, but when the door opens, the words of the delivery man carry well into the room.

“Franky House Pizza, it’s ya booooi!” A voice booms, and Sabo recognizes Ace’s laughter following it.

He pokes his head into the hallway, just in time to see Ace accepting the pizza box, and-

“Oh. Blue,” he mutters, because that was definitely the color of the delivery man’s hair. Neon, too, enough to make Sabo’s eyes hurt staring at it.

Unfortunately for him, his words catch the blue man’s attention, and he peers behind Ace at Sabo. Ace turns around to look, and then motions for Sabo to come closer, so he does.

“Who’s this?” Blue man asks as Sabo wanders over. He feels inclined to ask Ace the same.

“Sabo,” Ace tells him. “This is Franky,” he says to Sabo.

“Ah!” Franky pounds a fist into his open palm, his face lighting up. “You’re the reason Ace was stress eating entire pizzas at my store!”

Sabo doesn’t know what to say to that, and then he suddenly does. He wants to ask, but instead words spew from his mouth without his permission. “It must be good pizza, then.”

Franky throws back his head and laughs, and his hair nearly collides with the top of the doorframe. “I like this one, Ace!”

“Yeah yeah,” Ace mutters, cheeks red. He opens the pizza box. “Just take your tip and go.”

“Don’t mind if I do. I really outdid myself with this one, just so you’re aware.” 

Sabo is a silent spectator as Franky grabs one pizza slice for himself, Ace sliding the box back shut after, and he can smell the aroma of peppers and ham thick in the air. It almost makes his mouth water.

“See ya, bro!” Franky says, waving with his free hand. “Nice to meet you, Sabo!”

Ace closes the door with his foot as Franky begins his descent and Sabo moves aside to let him pass, crossing his arms.

“So. Bluest boy, huh?”

Ace laughs. “It’s always more fun when Franky comes out himself. Plus, I don’t have to worry about keeping cash lying around.”

Sabo pops the lid to the pizza box once Ace sets it down. “Right. Just let him take some of your food.”

“Hey, he deserves to eat some of what he’s made,” Ace defends. “Speaking of which, this looks amazing.”

“You did let me build it.”

“Yeah?” Ace is grinning, when Sabo looks up. “I made the right choice.”

The pizza is fucking godly. 

They’re around the low table in the main room, squished near one corner to share the box between them. Sabo has to admit Franky really knew what he was doing. It’s easily the best pizza he’d had in his life.

“So,” Ace says, drawing the word out, and Sabo glances over. He swallows and speaks before Ace can get another word in.

“You were working on school stuff earlier, right? Did you get enough done?”

Ace shrugs. “What I could.” His lips purse as Sabo takes this hard, gaze moving down to the table. “Hey, it’s okay, Sab. One day off isn’t going to kill me. Besides, Deuce hired a lab hand a few weeks back, so all the menial stuff isn’t even in my hands anymore.”

Sabo glances back up at the unfamiliar name. “Deuce?”

“Yeah, him and Cornelia and I share the same lab.” Ace waves it off, reaching for another slice. “Anyway. Are you ready for tomorrow?”

Ah. That. “I guess,” Sabo mutters noncommittally. 

“Nervous or anything?”

“No.” He says this too fast, but when he thinks about it, he wasn’t. It wasn’t anything to stress over. The only thing that was going to be a problem was Ace leaving early, especially since he didn’t go in today.

As if sensing what he was thinking about, Ace speaks up. “My morning is light, so I’ll be out with enough time to pick you up.”

“It’ll be light even with today’s work added?”

Ace sighs, setting the pizza down. “Yes, it will. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“Okay,” Sabo answers, but his expression twists, tells a different story.

“If something happens -if you need anything- please wake me up,” Ace says later on, placing his hand over Sabo’s as he slips under the covers. He’d made sure the blond took the Ziprasidone after they’d finished eating, but he also wasn’t entirely sure if Sabo had or hadn’t taken it the other night, and he wasn’t entirely prepared to repeat the same scenario. He’d much rather be woken up than be roused by Sabo having another freakout. 

“I will,” Sabo tells him, and unlike earlier, this time he means it.


	7. is it me, or

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> been listening to spirit channeling by psognar and in hindsight its a rly good sy!sabo song so uh if you need bg music while reading thats my suggestion (its also where the ch title comes from bc im v tired and uncreative rn)

When Ace arrives back at the house a little before one, he finds Sabo already has his nose plugged.

“Dry,” Sabo mumbles as he climbs into the front seat. The explanation is good enough for Ace. It wasn’t like he hadn’t dealt with it before. 

Sabo gives him the address and he knows the location well enough to manage without directions. They pull back out and Ace reminds Sabo of his seatbelt. He hangs his head as he complies, mumbling a ‘thanks’ as they move down the road.

Halfway there, stalled at a stoplight, Ace brings forth a question he’d been stewing on for a while. “You still wanna learn how to drive?”

Sabo goes from staring out the side window to look at Ace. He risks a glance over, but he can’t gauge Sabo’s expression before the light changes.

“I can teach you, if you want,” he offers. “You could get your license. Drive this thing around, if you needed to.”

“I don’t know,” Sabo murmurs. “I- uh . . .”

“You don’t have to answer right now,” Ace amends, realizing how uncomfortable he was inadvertently making the other. “You don’t have to agree, either. If you wanna wait, we can hold off on it.”

“Let me think about it,” Sabo ends up saying. They’re pulling up to Dr. Kureha’s building by then.

“Do you mind if I come in?” Ace asks as Sabo’s pushing open the door. He turns back, eyeing Ace oddly, and he rephrases his words. “To the appointment. Is it okay if I’m there?”

Sabo nods. “That’s fine.”

Ace grabs the door, and a sliding glass panel is immediately to their right. He hangs back and lets Sabo wave to get the attention of the guy on the other side, tapping away at a computer screen. He glances up and pushes a rolling chair to the panel, opening it a little. Ace is definitely surprised at the youth on his face. He couldn’t be any older than twenty.

“Hi, uh, I’m Sabo Triste,” Sabo tells him. “I’m here for an appointment?”

The boy blinks. “Triste.” He moves away, back to the computer, and hums after a minute. “There you are. One sec.” 

A couple minutes later, he’s passing a clipboard through the panel to Sabo. He digs around the sorted countertop until he finds a useable pen, then passes that through, too. “Fill that out for me. Just bring it here when you’re done.”

Sabo picks a pair of seats more towards the back of the waiting room. Ace crosses his arms, glances over at the stack of papers, but he’s not going to help unless he’s asked to. He has his phone out soon enough, messing around on it in lieu of tuning in to the mindless tv playing overhead. 

Sabo tugs on his sleeve after a minute, and he glances up to find he’s stalled in the forms. “What’s our address?” he asks, voice quiet in mind of the room’s other occupants. Ace feels his heart jump at the words, the  _ our _ jutting out and stabbing him, and he can’t decide if he likes it too much or he’s overwhelmed. He rattles it out for Sabo with a steady voice, and those blue eyes finally leave his own to look back at the papers, jotting it down fast enough to where Ace doesn’t have to repeat anything.

They sit there for a good amount of time. Ace is aware enough of Sabo to notice his progress, but he leaves him be. There are a couple he must just have to sign, because he sits there for a while before taking a pen to the bottom and shuffling it to the back. 

There’s one he gets that makes his lips purse. He reads over the top, then all the blanks, then moves to the next page before he can think on it much.

Unfortunately, Tony notices the blanks. He’s flipping through the pages and pauses at one, and Sabo’s heart clenches as he realizes which one it is. He moves past it, pulling the forms from the clipboard as he reaches the end, but he removes one page from the stack before setting the rest next to the computer.

He wheels his way back to the panel and sets the page down on the counter, leaning his elbows to cage it in. A spare pen is in his hand. “What’s your insurance carrier, Sabo?” he asks, and Sabo winces. Beside him, Ace blinks, like he had just realized the issue this question might cause.

“Uh, I don’t have any,” he meekly says. Tony blinks back at him, clicking his pen a few times. Finally, he sets it down on top of the blank paper and recognition lights in his eyes.

“When did you say you got back home?”

“A week ago, maybe,” Sabo admits.

Tony nods, rising from his seat. “Wait here a moment,” he says, then leaves to a back room. Sabo shares a quick glance with Ace, but before it can reveal much, audible muffled shouting reaches them from behind the door. They both turn to stare. 

It’s a long couple minutes before the yelling peters off, and both of them don’t fail to notice the pair of voices that had participated, rather than a single person. The argument must resolve itself, because Tony comes back soon after that. He grabs the blank insurance page and sticks them with the rest of Sabo’s forms, then turns back to smile at them. “Your first visit is free!” he announces.

A noise leaves Sabo’s mouth at the unexpected declaration. He’s not going to pass it up, though. “Thank you,” he says, and Tony waves him off, pulling up something on the computer. The easy smile is still on his face.

“You’re still set for two.” He glances to the back room, then rolls back over to them. “Shouldn’t be much longer. I’ll get all your paperwork in.”

-

Doctor Kureha does indeed look old enough to have been grey and decrepit back when Koala saw her. Sabo smartly holds this comment in as he shakes her hand. She frowns over at Ace, but doesn’t have a problem with him being in the room. It takes time for Sabo to realize she’s always frowning, and that she didn’t mean anything by it. Ace seems unaffected, settling onto the small couch beside Sabo, so he doesn’t bring it up.

She pens in something on a slip of paper before spinning her chair toward them, hands settling in her lap. “You’re on the twenty miligrams of Ziprasidone?” Sabo nods and she immediately fires another question. “How long?”

“About a week.”

“Okay.” She jots something on the paper again. “Who evaluated you?”

She’s not looking at him, thankfully, so she doesn’t notice when he lips curl awkwardly. “Military personnel,” he eventually settles on. That seems satisfactory enough, because she doesn’t probe further. Sabo’s thankful for that. 

“Alright, Triste, here’s the short of it.” Kureha flicks her shades higher onto her head and leans back in her seat. “I’m not reevaluating you since you’ve already been diagnosed. Since I don’t have those documents, though, I have to do some sort of assessment to figure where you are. Just try to bear with it and remember I’m a fresh face if I ask you anything you’ve already heard.”

Sabo agrees and she dives into the meat of it straight away. “You hear voices that aren’t there.”

“Yeah.”

“Are they internal or external?”

“External, mostly.”

Her brow raises. “Is there a voice narrating your actions? Life in general?”

“No.”

“Are they out of nowhere, or relevant to your setting?”

“Both, I guess.”

“Give me an example.”

Sabo hesitates. He resists looking at Ace, even though he  _ knew _ it was fine. Ace wasn’t here to judge him. He wasn’t going to think any less of Sabo after this. 

He knows this, but it’s so far buried under his incessant worrying that it almost doesn’t matter. Kureha waits, hands still in her lap. Sabo resists a sigh and moves his eyes to the closed window on his left. 

“Hearing an order called at a restaurant,” he admits. 

“The wrong one, or at all?” Kureha asks. Sabo picks up on her lowered voice, like she was sympathizing with him.

“At all.”

“What about when you were deployed?”

Sabo stiffens, his shoulders hiking up. “Yeah,” he says, slowly. “The big one was-” He breaks off for a moment. “Um. It was hearing go-ahead’s before they actually happened.”

Kureha hums, stewing on this for a second. “Bet that caused problems.”

Sabo snorts. He finally raises his eyes back to her. 

“What about irrelevant ones?” She waves a hand. “Any loud noises, whispers, conversing?”

“Just the first one.”

“Do you see people, too?”

Sabo stiffens again. “Yeah.”

She hums. “We’ll come back to that. Do you have any sort of special powers?”

He almost rolls his eyes. Definitely heard this one before. “No.”

“Do you feel like your thoughts or actions are being controlled?”

“Not really.”

“Do you have thoughts that aren’t your own?”

Sabo opens his mouth, but then he thinks on it, and he closes it again. He sits there for a long moment. Again, Kureha lets him. He can’t . . He doesn’t . .

Finally, he shrugs. “I don’t know. I-maybe?”

“Don’t force yourself.” Kureha’s smiling, slightly. “I’m not here to make you question yourself.”

“Do you feel like you’re being conspired against?”

Sabo huffs before he can properly answer. Ace shifts next to him and he grows self-conscious, words on the tip of his tongue retreating. Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea, to let him come in. 

No. That wasn’t true. Besides, hadn’t he already admitted a little of it the other day? A little more wouldn’t . . . hurt.

Much.

“I wasn’t discharged willingly,” he admits.

Kureha follows his words well enough for a follow-up. “You think they diagnosed you to get rid of you?”

“I guess.”

“So you don’t think you have schizophrenia?”

Sabo’s lips purse. “That’s . . not it. I just think it was convenient, is all.”

Thankfully, she switches the subject. “Do the people you see interfere with your life?”

He just nods.

“Can you always tell if they’re hallucinations?”

He thinks back to the girl with the heart-shaped purse, the one he’d led around for the better part of an afternoon. How he picked her up to zip across the street, and waved her goodbye in front of the building she’d mentioned.

“Sabo?” Kureha says, and he glances up, realizing he’d been lost in thought too long.

“No,” he replies. “Not all the time.”

“Sometimes you can?”

“Yeah.” Lindbergh’s face flashes through his mind, and he bobs his head. “Yeah,” he repeats.

Kureha tips her head, looking to Ace. “Have you noticed any agitation? Misplaced aggressiveness?”

Ace blinks, surprised to be addressed. The immediate answer is yes, but the more thought-provoking one was . .

“Some,” he says. Sabo stiffens beside him, hands balling up. “I don’t know how normal that is, though.”

Kureha nods, then slowly turns her head to eye one of the papers on her desk. “Sabo, how long were you deployed?”

“Five years,” he mutters.

She sighs. “That definitely makes this harder. If I can’t gauge from someone who’s familiar with you . .” She shakes her head. “No, no. You’re already diagnosed. It doesn’t matter.” She turns back to Ace. “Any hostility that seemed unusual?”

“A few times.”

“What about derailment of thoughts?”

Ace pauses, then glances to Sabo. “Sure,” he says.

“Elaborate.”

“Not able to answer properly, I guess? Or trying to explain something and giving up.”

“Were they important?”

“They weren’t time sensitive,” Ace says instead. Kureha seems satisfied enough by this.

“Have his hallucinations affected you too?”

Ace blinks. “Like, do I see them?”

“Oh, no.” She shakes her head. “Do you get involved with the conversation, if it takes place? Or, do his interactions with them impact you?”

“No to the first . .” He glances at Sabo, but the blond is decidedly not looking at either of them. “There have been a couple times where-” He breaks off, unsure how to reply. “Yes.”

Kureha only looks at him, silently asking him to continue. When he doesn’t, she verbally prompts him. “Can you explain?”

Ace looks over to Sabo properly. “Is that okay?” he asks, voice low.

Sabo moves his head just a little in acknowledgement. It’s a few more seconds before he nods. 

Ace is frowning as he begins. He’s not facing Sabo anymore. “He was on the couch late one night. I got his attention and he freaked out, saying how I wasn’t real. I thought I managed to calm him down after a bit, but after he realized I was tangible, he latched onto me. Hid behind me, saying how he didn’t want to see whoever he was imagining. There wasn’t really anything I could do to console him -he was terrified. We eventually made it into another room, and he started crying. He finally worked himself up so much he passed out.” 

He shrugs, looks up to see Kureha’s eyes narrowed. Not in anger, or suspicion, but more out of thought. She turns her gaze to Sabo after a long moment. He has his head bowed.

“Sabo. Who do you see?” she asks. 

Sabo’s head is still bowed when he answers, and it takes him a full five seconds to mutter his reply. “Dead people.”

Kureha doesn’t ask for an elaboration. There’s enough context to figure these aren’t the zombified dead people, or the floaty, ghostly ones. 

“You knew them,” she says. It’s not a question.

After a long moment she sighs and turns in her seat to scribble on the paper. “Has anyone ever brought up the possibility of ptsd?” she asks.

Sabo looks up. “No.” His voice is wary.

“Well, I suppose you haven’t been away for long enough to tell. I’m adding it as a concern on your file. We’ll keep an eye out, see how you do in the next few weeks.” She looks over at Ace again. “Have you noticed any sluggish movements?”

“He’s been tired?” Ace’s brow furrows. “I think that’s just a side effect, though.”

“Fair enough.” She stops writing. “How has that been? The side effects.”

“Fine, I guess.”

“Not too much to deal with?”

“I don’t think so.”

“What about your hands?” Ace asks, voice quiet. Sabo blinks, then looks over to Ace.

“The tremors?” Kureha asks. “Chopper mentioned them. That’s not unusual for Ziprasidone to produce, but if it’s too much, I’ll give you a script for Benztropine.” Her eyes narrow in thought, “When do they happen?”

“High stress,” Sabo admits. “Randomly, too, I guess. I dropped a cup the other day,” he confesses. “Holding it with both hands.”

“How is the Ziprasidone? Is it having any effect?”

Sabo shakes his head. “Not that I can notice.”

“Well, it’s only been a week,” she muses. “Is that right?” She continues at Sabo’s nod. “It’ll probably take another week or two for any changes to occur.” She hums. “I don’t want to raise the dosage considering all your ill effects. Why don’t I write you a script for a ninety-day of the same, and if the side effects lessen by the end of your current supply but you still don’t feel it’s strong enough, you call and I’ll change it.”

“Okay.” Sabo nods.

“I’ll write the Benztropine script, too. What’s your pharmacy?”

She glances up when she doesn’t receive an immediate reply to find his eyes on Ace. 

“I don’t have one,” he says, looking back.

“You can use mine,” Ace follows up. Sabo looks back, grateful, nodding.

“I’ll write you one, then,” Kureha announces. “If you need more, call Chopper, and he’ll get me to call the pharmacy directly.” She finishes writing and passes both scripts over to Sabo. “If you don’t need it anymore, just stop taking it. Anti-tremor meds aren’t long-term, anyway.”

She sets back in her chair again. “Anything else you need?”

“No,” Sabo says, nearly jumping to his feet. Ace gets up more calmly in comparison, and she waves them out.

“Chopper will get you checked out.”

-

“Let’s see . . . she wants you back in three months,” Tony tells them, finishing entering the pharmacy Ace had supplied him with. “What time works best?”

Sabo just glances to Ace. “The morning,” Ace tells Tony. He nods and brings up a time sheet.

A few minutes later, they’re out the door, both scripts and an appointment card in Sabo’s hands. He breathes out a sigh, lets his shoulders slump.

Ace looks over, expression one of faint amusement. “C’mon, let’s get the Benz-whatever turned in then grab lunch.”

Sabo looks up in surprise. “You don’t have to go back?”

“Nah, it’s cool,” Ace admits. 

Ace seemed very nonchalant about it all, so Sabo chooses to take it at face value, for once not stressing over what Ace wasn’t saying. He hums, pockets the appointment card, and hands the Benztropine script over to him. “I want sushi, then.”

“Sure,” Ace laughs, taking the script and starting the car.

They’re told it’ll be an hour until the script is filled, so Ace drives them out to a sushi bar near the center of the city. They talk about menial things, for the most part. Ace tells him his work load at the lab grew lighter closer to the weekend, because no one was generally up there, and that’s when all the heavy equipment was turned off, so the only thing to do was take observations. There were lab hands around for that, though, undergrads that came in all hours of the day and night to jot down numbers and tape up test strips. And feed plants, if you were Deuce and hired someone to assist with your lunar ecosystem so you could get more than thirty hours of sleep in a week. 

“Lu-nar?” Sabo asks around a mouthful of rice.

Ace waves him off. “Not really, we just call it that because the only light he exposes them to is the moon’s.”

“And he’s working with plants as a chem student?”

“Yeah, it’s some offshoot of pharmaceutical chemistry. I never bothered to remember the name. I swear they stuck him in our lab so he could get away with using one of the reactors without having to file for permission all the time, but I mean, he’s grown on me.” Ace’s lips quirk up as he stabs his chopsticks into another roll. “He stole some of Cornelia’s ribosome samples last week, fed them to one of the plants. It-” He cuts off as Sabo’s face twists. “What?”

“Human samples?” he mutters. “Isn’t that, like, unethical?”

Ace blinks, they leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Yeah, it’s frowned upon, but only if you get caught” He shrugs. “Everyone does stuff like that to cure their boredom. It’s more fun to watch interesting stuff happen, reminds you why you chose the field.”

“Should I ask what you’ve done?” Sabo deadpans.

Ace shrugs again. “I haven’t blown anything up, so I’m golden.” His phone buzzes as Sabo sets his chopsticks down, appetite lost. “Oh, that’s the timer. The script should be ready.”

“Good. I’m ready to leave,” Sabo mutters, entirely put-off from the sushi remaining on his plate.

He opens the paper bag in the car on the way home, letting the pill bottle fall into his hand. “One twice a day,” he mutters, loud enough for Ace to hear.

Ace hums. “How much is it?”

“Says one milligram.”

“Why don’t you take one now, then,” he suggests, gesturing to the water bottle in the cup holder, “and another later on, when you take the Ziprasidone?”

“That sounds good,” Sabo agrees, untwisting the cap. “Then I can just start pairing the two, so I don’t forget one or the other.”

“Hey, Sabo,” Ace says, after he’s taken the pill, and as they’re turning into the apartment complex. He waits until they’re parked and Sabo’s eyes are on him, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel he refuses to look up from. “Can I ask you something?”

It feels like an eternity before he responds. “Depends.”

Oh. That hurt more than he thought it would. He does his best to keep it off his face, internalizing all the damage. “It’s nothing bad, I promise.” He laughs a little but it comes out strangled, so he swallows it down. “It’s, uh . .” He holds his fingers still against the wheel. “You told Kureha, that you mostly had external stimuli.” He swallows. “What was . . . the internal stuff?”

He glances up and Sabo is watching him carefully. His expression is guarded, but it looks more guarded against himself, and not against Ace and any reaction he could have. Ace suddenly feels bad for asking, and he clenches the steering wheel tight, opens his mouth to take it back.

“Dragon said I was delusional,” Sabo mutters. Ace squeezes his hands tighter. “He . . . they would all say things that I just.  _ Couldn’t _ believe. And I felt like the facts would bounce back and forth, and I couldn’t form my own opinions, after a while. I’d get told something, and it just seemed so  _ unreal, _ like the laws of the universe had bended to make it fact. It wasn’t like- I mean, yeah, I was living a lifestyle in which things would rapidly change, but not like this. At one point it felt like there were two Dragons, each feeding me a set of lies.” 

Sabo frowns, puts a hand to his temple. “That doesn’t make sense, does it? I- sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Ace murmurs. “You know, you can . . talk to me anytime. I don’t have to understand to listen.”

Sabo’s eyes shine when he turns to face Ace, and he’s biting down on his lip. The only answer he gets is a terse nod, but he knows it’s the best he’s gonna get in the moment.

-

Sabo wakes up alone, again.

He resolves himself. This time, it was going to be different.

He moves into the kitchen and flicks on the low light above the dining table. Then he steps onto the tile and immediately retreats back to the main room, wincing at the pinpricks of cold stabbing the soles of his feet.

Sabo pulls some socks on before trying again.

He opens up all the drawers and cabinets in the kitchen, managing to avoid bumping his head in the process. Once he’s done, he stands in the center to admire his handiwork, then slowly moves to look over everything, taking into account what belonged in which space, all that Ace did and didn’t have.

His hands reach out to take the bottles of Ziprasidone and Benztropine, and he puts those on the table. Then he pulls out a water bottle and the bag of bread and sets both on the countertop.

He moves around the kitchen until he locates a space for potholders, removing one from the small collection and setting it on the stovetop. 

Sabo pauses as he grabs the same oven tray from yesterday, finding a note taped to the front side. He reads it over and huffs out a laugh, rolling his eyes. His fingers tear it away before setting the tray aside.

_ how to make toast -simple! with ace _

_ bread in top cabinet near back wall _

_ butter on counter below it _

_ set oven to 200º and put a little butter on top of bread, then shove the tray onto the highest rack. leave the door open and watch it, check every 2min. use oven timer. once it browns on top, it’s ready! _

_ also, there’s yogurt in the fridge. it’s good, i promise. -ace _

He smiles, the paper folding as he holds tight to a corner. He turns on the oven before backtracking to grab the butter from right where the handwritten note had said it would be. After a moment spent twisting, he catches sight of the utensils and reaches for a knife.

A searching of the fridge reveals a one-serving of cherry yogurt, and Sabo pries the top off just as the oven beeps to signal it had warmed up all the way. He catches himself, frozen, before he can release the foil and discards of it properly. 

Sabo drags a chair over to set right in front of the oven and leaves the door propped open after putting the tray inside. He grabs a spoon and eats the yogurt while he waits, setting it down halfway through when he deems the bread toasted enough.

He smears the rest of the cherry onto the toast and settles at the table properly, tossing the spoon into the sink on his way. The sun begins to rise as he sits there munching on the food, and he decides he’s going to leave the kitchen the way it is for the day.

After taking both medicines, Sabo opts to reorient himself with the apartment entirely. He starts at the entry hall and makes his way to the bathroom, pulling open drawers and closets and hidden spaces until everything is laid bare. 

He finds an assortment of things. The towel rack was a closet opposite of the bathroom, a small thing he hadn’t realized was there aside from the handle attached. Spare sheets and a couple heavy blankets are also inside, so he supposes it could pass as an actual linen closet. There’s a plain spray bottle in the back of a cabinet labeled ‘potion’ and a tag attached with Lami’s name on it. He can’t figure out if it’s medical, but it sure smells too good to be.

There are cleaning supplies he unearths that look hazardous, and he figures they must have come from school. Whether Ace had actually attempted to mix something up or just stole some heavy stuff was up in the air.

Sabo frowns as he digs up several ace wraps from the bottom of the closet, collected among the various other things Ace had lying on the floor. They’re all rolled neatly and taped up, it just seemed weird for there to be so many, or for there to be any at all.

He shuffles things around and knocks his hand into something hard in the corner. Sabo winces, pulling back, and then frowns as he recognizes the shape, turning his body to let light shine into the space.

It’s a medical boot. That explained all the bandages. A quick check doesn’t reveal any crutches, but Sabo can’t rule out Ace not having any and simply returning them. 

He puts the wraps back and everything else mostly in its place. The ringing of his phone makes him turn away. He spies it going off atop the nightstand, still plugged in. When he walks over to pick it up, he finds Koala’s name across the top.

That’s right. He had put her number in. And she was due back soon. Did that mean-

“Hello?”

_ “Sabo! It’s me. Are you free right now?” _

He blinks. “Yeah, sure.”

_ “Great! Meet me at the park near fourth. You know the one, right?” _

He did. He was very familiar with it, actually. 

It doesn’t take him long to slip on new clothes and grab his house key from near the front door. Outside, the air is chillier than what he expected. He makes it down the stairs before deciding he couldn’t handle it, and ventures back up them to grab a jacket.

He grabs one of Ace’s at random, tossing it on and putting his key into one of the deep pockets. He stuffs his hands in, too, as he walks down the road, and finds it shields him from the chill of the wind just fine. 

Koala meets him on the edge, leaning against the wooden posts that protected the scruffy grass from the road. She stands up as she spots him, waving, and Sabo quickens his footsteps until her arms are around him. He moves his hands from the pockets to hug her back.

“It’s good to see you again,” she mumbles. Sabo nods his head in lieu of a verbal reply.

They separate and she grabs for his hand, swinging it between them. The grass is crunchy under their feet. Sabo’s gaze turns from her hat to the playground set in the distance, noticeably bare of children.

Koala follows his eyes and hums. “What?”

“Just didn’t expect us to be the only ones.” She looks at him and he stops walking. “What?”

“Little kids have school,” Koala says. Sabo blinks. He hadn’t thought of that.

Koala sighs and tugs him along. “It’ll be a few more hours until school gets out. What, you forget?”

“Yeah, I guess,” he mutters.

“C’mon, let’s go swing!”

Koala walks him across the grass until they hit gravel, and then releases his hand, moving to jog across it. She pauses halfway to the swingset, looking down at her shoes. Sabo wanders up.

“This feels more like it,” she murmurs. “Not grass or pavement or road, but this. Loose. Uneven. Noisy.” She kicks out, shooting up a stream of pebbles. “This feels like more of what I’m used to.”

She turns back to glance at Sabo, then lets out a quick laugh. “Sorry. I’m sure you don’t want to hear that.” She moves until she’s sat on one of the old swings, hands moving to grasp the chains.

Sabo sits in the next one, swaying slightly. “Who are you staying with?”

“My mother,” Koala answers. “I told you about her, didn’t I?”

She had. They’d had lots of little conversations, in the dead of night lying on opposite cots, pressed back to back on lookout, in the little tense moments right before a mission was due to start. He remembers Koala talking about her. That it was just her, back home.

He didn’t ever imagine she’d want to leave. But here she is. 

“How are you adjusting?” he asks next, because Koala didn’t have the same problems he did, but surely she-

“It’s been . . . different,” she admits. “Mom, she. She forced me into a skirt the other day, and it felt so  _ weird _ . These feel leagues better-” She gestures to her leggings. “-but they’re still not exactly right.”

“I get it.” Sabo reaches down to tug the side of his sweats. “I ended up in jeans my-” He breaks off, thinks. “First day, second night back. They were . . weird,” he echoes, unable to come up with anything else. 

“That’s what we get for wearing the same things for years,” Koala voices. Her eyes are on him, when Sabo turns to look. “He didn’t change his number, did he?” She continues without waiting for him to answer. “Well? How is it? Everything you hoped it would be? Minus all the things you were worried about for no reason.”

“It wasn’t-” He cuts off as she fixes him with a look. Sighs, after a moment. “Okay, so a lot of it turned out to be nothing. But it’s been years. Can’t blame me for thinking things would be different.” He continues as she stares at him. “Not . . everything. I’ve changed a lot. He has, too, but-”  _ Not as much as me, _ Sabo thinks.  _ He’s not the problem, here. _ “I think, one day, we’ll get there.”

“He still wants to be with you?” Koala’s voice is low, quiet.

Sabo opens his mouth to reply and thinks of all the things Ace has done for him, since he got back home. His mouth hangs open as he resists the urge to cry, his throat suddenly closing in, and his hands tighten on the chains.

“Somehow,” he mumbles, head ducked. Koala snorts, kicking off from the ground, and the bars creak above her before adapting to her weight.

“Any problems?” she asks.

“Yeah. It’s me.”

“Spill.”

“I guess I just don’t feel like I deserve anything. He’s really sweet.” He leans against one side of the chains. “I can tell he’s trying. He’s giving me space, but he wants-” He swallows.

“And you don’t? You always talked like you did.” Koala’s eyes narrow. “Though you mentioned a lot of feeling inferior, too. You thought he was so much better than you.”

“He is,” Sabo defends. “He’s done so much! And what have I done, really?” He sighs. “And now I’m here, and I just feel like I’m in the way.”

“I’m sure Ace feels different.” Her words don’t garner a reply, so Koala tries again. “You can do something now, you know. If you want.”

“I think I have to readjust first.”

“Yeah, sure. But that won’t take all your life. You still have so much time to find something you want to do. If you really feel like you haven’t accomplished anything, then change that.” She slows in her swinging. “You know he’ll help you.”

“I’ll just be in the way,” Sabo mumbles.

Koala hangs her head. She’s barely swaying, at this point. “Why don’t you just talk about how you feel?” she finally says. “You don’t have to wait until you’re better to get everything you want. Tell him-” She cuts off. “Well. You do still love him, right?”

Sabo jerks up, turning to look at her. He nearly slides off the swing. She rolls her eyes at his incredulous expression. “I-I-”

“Your face is red,” she notes, and Sabo slaps his hands over his cheeks to shield them from view. “You didn’t ever have to say it. I could read it off of you. We spent a long time together, Sabo.”

“I guess,” he mumbles, turning away.

She turns in her swing so her legs are on either side. “How was Kureha?”

“Oh- fine.” He waves his hands. “Got something to help the shaking. It was one of the bigger side effects of my prescription. It was free, too! The visit. Her office aide helped with that.”

“That was nice.”

“Yeah.” It was. “Do you know anything- I mean, do we get like, health-”

“Benefits?” Koala raises a brow. “Sure, I think. Dragon gave you a number, right? To use if you needed anything? You did save it, right?”

Oh. He does remember that. It was a scrap of paper, folded up. Probably still in his backpack. “I have it somewhere,” he mumbles.

“Put it in your phone,” Koala tells him. “Call if you need anything.” She stands, shivering as the wind catches her. “I’ll see you some other time, okay? Keep me updated about things.” She frowns, slightly, as she turns to face him. “Is the medicine . . helping any?”

He frowns back, mind flashing to all the times he’d seen Karasu, and Lindbergh, and then breaks off when he finds himself sheltered in Ace’s arms, tight around him, protecting him the best he could, even if he didn’t understand.

“No.”

He knows she’s right. He knows he needs to talk. But he . .

He’s not ready. He really doesn’t want to.

-

Ace comes home to Sabo on the couch.

The sight reminds him so much of Dragon that he has to stop for a moment, forgetting the weight in his hands.

Dragon came home from his third campaign after one year and eight months of being away. He’d missed Luffy’s birthday by two weeks.

He looked different, too. More harried. He remembers Garp setting him and Luffy down, telling them that Dragon couldn’t talk about any of it, so not to ask. Luffy had asked why, but Ace had thought that Dragon looked like he needed to. Talk about it. Even if it was confidential, if he could just talk to the kitchen wall about all that he’d seen, that he might not look so haunted. That he might come more into himself, might delve more into the Dragon Ace knew better, instead of this . . shell.

Sabo isn’t asleep, not with his eyes open like that, but he doesn’t respond to Ace until one of the plastic bags looped around his fingers slips onto the floor. His head moves over to the noise, and Ace watches as he blinks one, two, three times before becoming aware of his presence.

“Oh, shit,” Ace mutters, bending down to retrieve the bag. Sabo’s eyes fall to it as he sits up.

“You’re back,” he murmurs.

Ace slides his backpack from his arm onto the other couch. “Yeah. I needed to go out and get some things for the lab, and then I remembered we could probably use some more food.” He gestures to the bags. “I have to store these in the freezer. Once I’m done putting them up, does going to the store sound good?”

Sabo moves to his feet. “Sure.” He reaches for one of the bags, but Ace steps around his hold.

“You shouldn’t. I got it,” he insists. Sabo drops his hands.

“Are we out of anything you need?” Ace asks, sliding the contents of the first bag into the open freezer door.

“I don’t  _ need _ anything,” Sabo mumbles.

Ace amends his words. He supposed he was used to this. “What about anything you want?”

“I guess.”

“Great.” He throws the empty plastic bag onto the counter, then works his phone out from his pants. “Make a list for me, okay?”

Sabo takes the phone and navigates to an app. Ace names off a few things he knew they were low on and Sabo types them in.

“You haven’t eaten yet, right?” He glances back to catch Sabo’s nod. “We can pick something up on the way back, or get something from the store. Your choice.”

Sabo pauses in his typing. He looks up as Ace closes the freezer and begins to gather all the empty bags. “What . . do you want?” he voices.

Ace turns again to look at him, briefly, and Sabo can sense the dismissal before it’s out of his mouth. “It’s been a lot of what I want, lately,” he says before Ace says anything. “What do you want to do?”

Ace sighs, shoulders slumping, and the bags crinkle in his grip. He wanders over to put them in the trash, then leans against the counter. “I’m tired,” he confesses. 

“Do you want to stay home? Go another day?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

“Don’t cook, then.” Sabo’s still frowning, but it’s more of concern than him being upset. “We can grab something. That’s fine with me.”

Ace’s next sigh morphs so he’s smiling by the end. His eyes soften. “You’re so good to me, Sab,” he murmurs.

Sabo feels the blush form on his face, so he ducks away before Ace notices. “Goes both ways,” he mutters, moving back to the living room. “Let me grab my shoes!”

“‘Kay.” 

Sabo seems livelier as they venture through the bright-lit aisles of the grocery store. His hand hangs onto the side of the cart Ace insisted they push around, even if what they got could easily fit a handbasket. Ace pushes the cart along, but his gaze is turned to Sabo instead of down the aisle, watching his head flip back and forth, entranced by everything around him. Ace’s phone was in his other hand, swinging at his side, and a couple times Ace has to reach over and tug him closer so the swinging doesn’t knock against a display.

“Pasta should be on the list,” Ace says, stopping at the correct shelf. He sees Sabo begin to frown before he turns to grab a box, and he can guess the complaint easily enough before he says it.

“I don’t like-”

“Sauce, I know.” Ace tosses a second box into the cart after thinking on it. He rolls his eyes. “Because you’re weird like that. Any other dislikes I should know about?”

“Nothing new,” Sabo mutters.

Ace smiles, then reaches out to cuff the blond in the head. Sabo spins toward him, affronted, and he resists the laugh pulling on his lips. “Any new allergies?”

“Just strawberries,” he mumbles, taking a cautious step away from the cart as Ace begins wheeling it down the aisle again.

“Great. What about breakfast? What’d you write down?”

This perks Sabo back up well enough. “Yogurt! And pancakes. And cereal-”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down.” Ace raises a hand. “Yogurt we can do. You’re gonna make pancakes?”

Sabo’s expression grows pinched. “I thought you might,” he mumbles. “Like on a weekend or something.”

Ace shrugs. “Okay, fair. What about something you can do? You want, like, frozen waffles? Something you can stick in the oven for a sec?” Sabo bobs his head after a moment. “Got it. Remind me to grab milk for the cereal.” He reaches out to grab the back of Sabo’s shirt before he can wander further, rolling the cart to a stop. “Now pick out your yogurt.”

Later, Ace will make the mistake of passing through the bakery section on their way to check out. Sabo walks slowly, one hand hooked to the side of the cart, and he jerks to a stop whenever something really catches his eye. Ace is almost tempted to just let him steer, except he’s pretty sure Sabo would crash no problem, so he just tugs the handle of the cart forward until Sabo moves away from the display.

This works except for when it doesn’t, and Sabo turns to face him with a glimmer in his bright eyes. “Ace!” He motions back to the packaged cookie boxes.

Ace glances from their haul so far to the cookies and then back to Sabo’s face, and he falters for a moment when met with those eyes. He sighs. “How much are they?”

Sabo smiles, spins around, and turns back with his smile a bit more forced. “Twelve dollars . .” he trails off, gaze moving to the side.

Ace closes his eyes. He sighs again. “Just get them.”

“Thank you!”

The voice is a lot nearer than he expected, and Ace blinks his eyes open to see Sabo’s face inches from his own. He’s smiling, eyes still bright with the cookies in his arms, and Ace finds it’s an expression he hasn’t seen on Sabo since he came back.

Sabo’s gaze flicks down, catches on Ace’s lips, and his throat bobs. In the end, he doesn’t do anything, turning to deposit the cookies in their cart. Ace forces an exhale from his chest.

“Yeah,” he answers, still not quite sure how to feel.

“We got a lot,” Sabo says, hand on the end of the cart, though he’s not tugging, letting Ace do all the work in wheeling it forward. “Sure this is okay?”

“Yeah,” Ace says again, still distracted. He moves to turn the cart when Sabo jerks it forward, and his gaze lifts up. “None of those are lit up,” he voices, watching Sabo bob his head in the direction of the closed checkouts.

Sabo falters mid-step. He blinks. “They’re . . not . .” Ace sees his hand had been raised -prepared to wave, he realizes- and he slips over until he’s beside Sabo, flipping his jacket hood up to hide his face. He places an arm on Sabo’s shoulder and turns him until he’s faced somewhere else. Already, Ace can see his face closing off, those blue eyes dimming.

He pulls Sabo close, steering the cart toward an open register with one hand. When a store clerk takes over, Ace moves Sabo behind the counter with him, eyes roving until he spots a roll of lifesavers near the card swipe. He picks one up and holds it out to the girl checking them out.

“Can you scan this?” he asks, and she calmly takes it from him, handing it back a moment later. He turns and stuffs it into Sabo’s hands, until the blond wraps his fingers loosely around it, looking up to meet Ace’s gaze.

Ace nods to the candy. “Save me a piece.”

Sabo’s expression grows piqued, and he’s not quite frowning when he looks down, begins to unroll the paper. Ace lets himself have a small internal victory for thinking so quickly. Sabo hums as he pops a piece into his mouth.

“I might not share,” he teases, hood slipping a little when he turns to Ace again. 

He works to keep the fondness from his face, aware of the girl watching them. “Glad to see you found dinner, then.”

Sabo’s smile drops. “Wait, no-”

“Cash or card?” the girl drones, looking up from scanning. Ace turns to her without gracing Sabo a response, resulting in a tug on his sleeve when he holds up his debit card.

“Ace!” Sabo whines.

“Kidding,” he mumbles, swiping his card. “Think of somewhere to stop on the way back.”

Sabo just huffs, releasing him. He stuffs another piece of candy in his mouth instead of replying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive never written this fic thinking about chapter breaks, and sometimes while im going thru to post i find it a little difficult to decide where to stop. this is one of those, so i hope its not too awkward an ending? it also means next part will start on a flashback, which i didnt want to happen, but i think itll be okay. 
> 
> ty for reading so far!! i wrote 13k for sy over 2 days and i told myself if i hit 10k i could post this part. didnt expect to hit it this fast hah, but also i think the story took a turn i had never accounted for from what i have planned, and im on the fence on if it would be good to go with or if it adds too much and i need to rewrite to exclude it. prolly ill take a step back from sy and wait a few days to reexamine it. 
> 
> that might be kinda meta h ah anyway im still planning for 2 updates this month, see ya soon


	8. for what is broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the flashbacks are definitely gonna be few and far between, and bc of that i didnt format them any differently than the rest of the fic. you should still be able to pick up on them p easily tho. there is one in this ch, so thats your warning.
> 
> i divided this bc the beg and end matched up well, and the next 2 scenes go together which would add another 3.5k, but the scene after that is suuuuuper long and definitely its own ch, so im thinkin abt doing a mini update at the end of the month depending on if i end up doubling the word count. ive written over 20k this month so im close but like.. we'll see.
> 
> ive been planning to have an update on 12/10 since thats when i uploaded the first ch, so i might leave it up to you guys on if you want a super sweet shorter ch or a longer but more difficult one for that update.

Ace has his hand fisted into the front of the flannel, prying it up his neck, when Sabo grabs his arm tight and thinks fast. “I’m not wearing anything underneath!” he shouts, still trying to force Ace off of him. His other hand is on Sabo’s side, still trying to reach to undo the buttons, and Sabo is barely able to pin it there. It’s a lot of work, to hold him off.

Ace’s fingers jerk, freeze, and the shirt rescinds back to Sabo’s chest, the collar a little lower than it should be, but it was big on him, so he couldn’t help it. His grey eyes are wide at this revelation, and yet even so Sabo keeps straining to keep hold of him, not wanting to risk slackening his grip only for-

Ace moves back out of his hold and Sabo stumbles, confused, arms outstretched. He recovers in enough time to wrap them around his form, shielding it, while Ace wastes no time in pulling his jacket over his head. Sabo blinks, momentarily distracted by Ace’s corded arms, and then the jacket hits him in the face with a  _ thwack _ , making him squawk in protest.

“Wear that instead!” Ace insists.

“It’s too hot for this,” Sabo whines, snagging the hoodie before it could fall to the floor. 

“Suck it up!” Ace huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Just give me my shirt back!” Sabo sticks his tongue out and Ace drops his arms, making him tense. “You’re lucky I respect you enough to not just rip it off of you,” Ace growls.

“Sure didn’t have a problem with it before!”

“That was before I- argh! Sabo, c’mon!”

They banter some more, but when Ace finally takes a step toward him, Sabo turns on his heel and bolts. He makes it several paces down the hallway before Ace catches him around the waist, lifting him enough for his feet to leave the ground. Sabo squeals in protest, but it peters off into a laugh that has him tossing his head back, giving Ace a full face of blond hair when he pulls Sabo closer. His hands go around Ace’s, but it’s a futile effort to try and pry them off.

“C’mon, Sab,” Ace groans. “I just want it back. You’ve had it for long enough!” He sounds upset, but Sabo knows better, feeling those lips curved into a grin against the back of his neck as Ace sets him down. He’s still laughing, shoulders shaking though the sounds are muted from his closed lips. He gets an idea and raises his hands, high enough to where Ace can see, and relaxes in his hold.

Ace sighs. “Fuckin’ finally.” He spins Sabo around to face him, still entrapped in his grip, and tugs him close. Sabo watches the easy smile Ace wears morph into suspicion at the sight of his low smirk. He lowers his raised hands to rest on Ace’s upper arms, then leans closer, head tilting.

“Are you sure you want it off?” Sabo murmurs, a sparkle in his eyes.

Ace rolls his eyes. “You’re lucky I like you.”

Sabo’s smirk grows. “Like me in your shirt, you mea-” Ace doesn’t let him finish, dipping his head to mash their lips together. Sabo hums, eyes slipping shut, and tilts his head more. Ace drags him closer and Sabo’s fingers curl against his muscle, sucking in a breath through his nose.

The bell chimes above them and Ace bites down on Sabo’s lip in surprise, sending him reeling back. He moves a hand up to cover it, stifling a wince. To be fair, Ace does look apologetic as he releases him. Sabo tries to wave him off, but he grabs the hand and bends forward to kiss his fingertip, and the action leaves the blond smitten. He swears he has steam coming from his ears, at this point.

Ace moves Sabo’s hand until the finger he’d kissed is against the sore spot on his lip. He drops it after a moment, and Sabo does his best to smile, overcome with soft emotions.

“I’ll see you after school,” Ace tells him, moving away. Sabo waves him off. 

He wears a smirk the entire way to his next class. He still has Ace’s shirt.

-

“Take me to the library.”

Ace pauses in his scanning of the report, glancing up from his laptop to Sabo sprawled out over the other couch. He’s scrolling through something on his phone, but as if sensing Ace watching him, looks up a moment later.

“Like, now?”

“No.” Sabo waves him off. “The weekend. Or if you’re off early.”

He relaxes his shoulders just a little. That made more sense. “Because . . ?”

_ That _ response earns him a glare, but he holds it evenly, resisting the upturn to his lips. Sabo huffs and is the first to turn away. 

“I’m tired of having nothing to do for the third week in a row,” he mumbles. 

Ace blinks. Oh. He hadn’t been expecting that. He feels his shoulders slouch. “My bad,” he starts. “I guess I haven’t been leaving you with much to do.”

“Not your fault.” Sabo’s eyes are back on his phone, but he’s not into it. He pushes his other hand under his chin. “You’ve been busy.”

“We can definitely go sometime soon.” He pauses. “You’ll need a library card, though.”

Sabo hums. “I guess. How do I get one?”

“I think they issue them out on site.” Ace shrugs. “Here, I can look it up.” He opens an internet tab on his laptop and does a quick search, frowning at the results. “Just need an ID, looks like. Though I probably won’t get off tomorrow until after they close.”

He looks up to Sabo’s dumbfounded expression and replays his words in his head. “I can get someone else to-”

“No, that’s not-” Sabo cuts himself off, sighing. “It’s the card.”

Ace’s brows draw close. “You don’t have an ID?”

“I do, I guess.” Sabo shrugs. “It’s just -not updated. I need a new one.”

“It’s expired?”

“It doesn’t have a home address,” Sabo says, and Ace’s ‘ah’ in response is quiet. “Still the one from overseas.”

Ace thinks on this for a second before frowning. “I definitely won’t get off in time for-”

“No, don’t worry about it.” He blinks and Sabo waves him off again. “I’ll get someone else to take me. I know it needs to be done, I just-” He hesitates. “Haven’t done it yet,” he settles on.

“Understandable,” Ace says slowly, pushing the laptop away. “Lami gets off at two on Wednesdays. Ask her about it.”

Sabo nods, sitting up with a yawn. “Tomorrow.”

“Also, there’s something else I wanted to talk about.”

Sabo blinks slowly, dropping the hand over his mouth. “What?”

“I’m playing baseball out on 4th with some people we used to know. Sunday. Law, Luffy, Sanji. Some others. A few you may not know. Wanna come?”

Sabo doesn’t take too long to think on it. “Sure.”

Ace’s smile is as wide as the sun. “Great!” 

-

_ “Yeah, I’ll pick you up.” _ A pause, then,  _ “Brush your hair, though. They’ll want a new picture.” _

Sabo snorts. “I got it. I’m not stupid.”

_ “Right, right. Sometimes I forget.” _

He rolls his eyes. “I so did not miss you.”

Lami’s gasp is affronted.  _ “I take offense to that! Ah, one second-”  _ She breaks off and rustling comes through the receiver, like she had pressed her phone against her scrubs. Sabo bites down on his lip, still feeling bad for keeping her while she was at work. She’d said it was fine, but-  _ “So why the sudden urge to get a new ID?” _

Oh. That. “For a library card,” he mumbles.

_ “Oh! That makes sense, I guess.” _ She pauses.  _ “Though, y’know, you could just use Ace’s and get one with his name. It’s not like they check who the cardholder is.” _

“Guess we didn’t realize that.”

She hums.  _ “Alright, whatever. If you need books in the meantime, I can bring you some.” _

“That would actually be great.”

_ “Okay! I’ll see you later, alright? I’ll text you before I get there.” _

“See you then, Lami.”

-

Sabo stares at the card in his hands for long enough that Ace reaches over and plucks it out, unable to wait any longer to see for himself. Sabo blinks, silently mourning the loss of the card, but mostly still trying to process all that he’d seen on it.

“Hm. Not bad.” Ace flips it over, but there’s nothing to note on the back. “Your hair looks nice here.”

“Lami fixed it before they took the picture,” Sabo mutters, dropping his empty hands. “It fluffed up outside.”

“It usually does.” Ace hands the ID back and Sabo glances at it again before forcing his eyes off of it, drawn instead to a lock of hair he rubs between his fingers.

“Maybe I should cut it,” he half-whispers.

“No!” Ace immediately says, loud enough for Sabo to look up, startled as evident by the gleam to his eyes. Ace calms, dropping his raised, outstretched hand and settling back in his seat. “I mean, you can do what you want,” he amends. “But uh . .” He looks away, bringing a hand to his face to hide the blush now dusting high on his cheeks. “I like it like this.”

Sabo looks at him for a few more seconds. He turns back to his hair with a slow blink, releasing the lock. “I’ll leave it, then,” he finally says. 

He doesn’t say anything more, so Ace drops it. “We can go to the library Saturday,” he says instead. “You have enough to last until then?”

“Out of what Lami gave me?” Sabo doesn’t have to think long on an answer. “Yeah, I’ll manage.”

“Great.” Ace glances at the time, noting it was barely past eleven. Neither of them had been willing to turn in, and Ace didn’t feel right with leaving Sabo up by himself. “Hey,” he suddenly says, drawing the blond’s eyes back to him. “Wanna do laundry tonight?”

Sabo’s nose wrinkles. “Don’t you have to get up early?”

“I have a late start tomorrow,” he admits. “Don’t have to be there ‘til ten. I can sleep in a little.”

A little. More like five hours. Sabo withholds his eye roll. Typical Ace. “Sure, then. I don’t mind.”

Half an hour later and they’re in the laundromat. It’s empty, none of the machines running, but it’s twenty-four hour, so it’s not like they’re not allowed to be there.

“I used to do it super late all the time,” Ace says as he pops quarters into the washer. “Like, three, four am. Great for when you don’t wanna see anyone.”

“I guess,” Sabo mutters. He tugs on the sleeves to Ace’s jacket until his hands poked through again. It’d been nice when they were outside, where it was cold, but it was more annoying in here. He starts rolling them up with a huff, until a small  _ thud _ sounds on one of the dryer lids, until Ace’s hands close over his own, until he picks up the low hum of a song starting up from Ace’s phone.

He looks up with a question and is surprised by the smile upturned on Ace’s lips. “Hey,” he says, and Sabo leans forward in his hold, tugged along by Ace’s grip. “Dance with me.”

Sabo’s brain short-circuits. It reboots again and his shoulders jerk, hands tensing in Ace’s grasp. He swallows, but Ace is still looking at him calmly, and after another few moments of Sabo’s silence, he pulls him closer instead of relenting, until they’re inches from each other and he’s settling Sabo’s hands against his chest. Sabo bobs his head, then, once, and Ace’s smile sharpens into a grin. He smooths it out as he splays his own hands across Sabo’s hips, tugging him closer and beginning to move them, slowly.

Sabo melts into his hold. He tries not to think about all the songs he does and doesn’t recognize playing through Ace’s phone and instead lets himself be led around all the machines, never straying too far that they can’t hear the music over the hum of the washer. His hands move up until they’re clasped behind Ace’s neck, and he lets his expression relax until he’s wearing an easy smile. They go around and around the empty room, slow, and then faster, and then slow again. Sabo lets himself relax, forget about everything to just exist in this moment.

“You have green in your eyes,” Ace murmurs, slowing them to a sway.

Sabo blinks, startled. “What?”

“Yeah, little flecks of it-” The washer going off cuts him off. Ace blinks, distracted from his train of thought. He disentangles himself from Sabo to open the machine door.

Sabo moves forward more slowly. He brings a hand up to his face. 

Ace doesn’t mention it again.

-

Sabo thinks, not for the first time, about kissing Ace. 

But it’s late when they get in, and he’s tired, so he chooses not to breach the topic, holding on to the words so close to his heart and saving them for a later time, for when he’s a little braver, and a little more willing.

He settles for being closer to Ace, instead. For wrapping his arms around Ace’s body, for nosing into his chest, and entangling their legs. He settles for holding, and being held in return, and tries not to think about a next time, a next chance, as he lets Ace’s steady heartbeat lull him to sleep.

-

Sabo’s first hint of awareness comes with a hand carding through his hair. He stifles a hum, cracks his eyes open instead. It’s not hard to recognize Ace, knelt on the bed, leaning over him, hand running over his hair. He stops once Sabo’s eyes blink further open, settling back on his heels. Sabo feels something missing but he’s not awake enough yet to process what.

“Breakfast is ready,” Ace says, voice low for Sabo’s sake. Sabo repeats the words in his mind and then tilts his head up to look to the window, registering the dim light coming through the blinds. That’s right. Ace did say he was going in later. He was just so used to waking up without him, or before the sun had risen, which was worse, when he was pulled awake by Ace leaving.

Ace leaving . . .

That was almost funny.

“Okay,” Sabo breathes, closing his eyes briefly as he adjusts his limbs. He sits up slowly and Ace slides off the mattress. One thing happens after another and Sabo lets himself be pulled to a stand, but he pauses before they can move, gripping to both of Ace’s sleeves tight with his thumbs, closing his eyes as a wave of dizziness crashes into him.

Ace waits while Sabo’s lips purse as his face screws up just slightly, recognizing what it was. He reaches out to grip Sabo’s hips to steady him, his arms brushing against Sabo’s fingers through the fabric of his shirt. Sabo’s face settles as everything washes over him, and he opens his eyes, nodding slowly. Ace lets go first, waits for Sabo to release him, and then steps back. 

In the kitchen, Sabo opens the fridge to dig out a bottle of water, and grabs his two prescription bottles to set on the table just as Ace places a plate of pancakes in front of him. Sabo hums, an easy smile filling his face. 

He glances at the time while lifting the first bite to his mouth, only a little surprised to find it was after eight. “How did I let you drag me up this early,” he mutters, mostly to himself, but Ace still responds. 

“I still haven’t heard a ‘thank you’.”

Oh. Right. Sabo moves his tired eyes forward, directing his smile at Ace as he swallows. “Thanks. It’s really good.”

Ace shrugs, not ready to accept the praise. “It’s leagues better than when I first started, at least,” he admits. “Used to leave the tops black while the insides were still runny, somehow. Lami called it a talent.” He laughs without any humor. “I owe it to her that I’m any good.”

This gives Sabo pause. “Lami taught you to cook?” He figured it had to be someone, with how bad he remembered Ace being, but he’d never thought to ask. 

“Yeah. Lami helped me a lot, actually, when-” Ace lets the rest of the sentence sit on the tip of his tongue, and then forces them back with another bite of pancakes. “I uh. I owe her a lot,” he ends up muttering, when the crease in Sabo’s brow becomes too tough to look at. 

Sabo looks away, too. He’s not ready to start talking about that. “Why the late start today?”

“I have a lecture, and I usually don’t work in the lab beforehand if I can help it.” Ace waves a hand in the air, lets himself ramble, thankful for the redirection. “Sometimes I get caught up in something and then I’m late, or I end up unable to stop and miss half the- . .” He trails off. “When I have lecture I just take the mornings off. It doesn’t happen very often. Last time was when you called me from overseas.”

“Ah.” Sabo remembers that. When his first call didn’t go through. The surprise in Ace’s voice, when he realized it was Sabo talking to him.

Sabo uncaps the bottles and downs his medicine with half the water. He moves to grab both plates as Ace finishes his, but Ace holds out a hand to stop his, grabbing Sabo’s plate and sliding it under his own. Sabo blinks, settles back, as he recognizes the red paste dotting Ace’s plate.

Ace smiles at him and stands. “I got it,” he says for good measure, moving over to the sink. Sabo sits there for a minute, watching him as he turns the water on, wondering how he didn’t realize he’d had strawberry jam with his pancakes. No wonder Ace stopped him. He was fine smelling it, but his skin broke out when he touched the stuff, and the last time he’d ingested some Ace had had to drive him to the hospital, his throat threatening to swell shut.

Sabo drains the rest of the water bottle and tosses it in the trash. He puts his medicine back on the counter as Ace turns the sink off. He’s drying his hands when Sabo leans back against the counter to face him.

“When do you have to leave?”

Ace shrugs, glancing at the clock. “Ten ‘til, maybe. I wasn’t lying when I mentioned school is really close. The professor never gets there on time, either.” He raises a brow. “Why? You wanna do something?”

Sabo shrugs.

“You wanna go back to sleep?”

“There’s no point now,” Sabo says, though he can feel how tired his voice sounds. 

Ace sighs, steps forward. “C’mere.” He guides Sabo to a couch, settling beside him. “I’m sorry this stuff is taking a toll. Maybe we could try some things. Do you think caffeine would help?”

Maybe Sabo’s tired because of the medicine. He can blame it on that, on not thinking straight, when he leans into Ace. He closes his eyes, and it’s warm, and Ace carefully snakes one arm around him, and Sabo feels himself growing greedier.

Ace is saying something. Sabo peels his eyes open. “Like soda?” he mumbles. “Maybe.” It might make him crash longer, when the sugar wore off, though he doesn’t say as much.

“We can try it.” Ace is shifting as he says the words, and Sabo blinks, breathes in, tries to become more aware. “I have to get dressed, okay? I’ll be right back.”

He leaves and Sabo realizes how much lighter it was in the room. He rubs at his face, scoots into Ace’s former spot, and brings his legs to his chest as he presses his face to the back cushions. Had he dozed off? Maybe he did need to sleep more. It wouldn’t do to keep fighting it all day.

“Sabo?”

He looks up as Ace’s voice reaches him, blinking away his blurred vision. “Sorry,” he murmurs. “Are you leaving?”

“Not yet.” Ace leans down, leans over him, really. “Sleep?”

“Yeah.” Sabo nods. “Sorry,” he repeats. “I did enjoy breakfast. Thanks for waking me up.”

Ace’s eyes slant. “Do you want me to call you later? Lecture’s only two hours. I can-”

Sabo blinks, heavy, and zones out, and feels his lips move. When he regains focus, Ace looks surprised, but he recovers quick, looking more amused than anything.

“I can’t carry you anymore, Sabo. I told you already.”

“You did?” Sabo murmurs, eyes drooping. “When?”

“Law’s party,” Ace admits. “You don’t remember?”

There’s an edge to the question, but Sabo is too tired to pick up on what it is. “The only thing I remember is the drink Vivi made that sold me to a hangover.” His lips purse. “You won’t even try. Unless we did.”

Ace shakes his head. “We didn’t, and I’m not going to now. Not while you’re mostly deadweight.”

Sabo frowns. “You’re no fun.”

Ace huffs out a laugh. “You said that, too.”

“Then I probably meant it.”

Ace reaches up and runs his hands up Sabo’s face, until his thumbs press into the hollows under his eye sockets. Sabo’s heart thuds at the familiar motion, and he’s startled by how awake he suddenly feels as Ace moves closer.

“You’ve been awfully clingy, today,” he murmurs, slowly rubbing his thumbs in small circles. 

“You don’t seem to mind,” Sabo retorts, no heat in his voice. His eyes lid and he feels them closing further, as Ace softly grips his jaw, as his breath ghosts over Sabo’s mouth.

“Seem to mind what?”

Sabo’s eyes snap open. Ace is still leant over him, but he’s a fair distance away, where he had been before. His face in pinched, like he was trying to figure Sabo out. “Is this about me not being fun?”

Oh.  _ Oh. _ That did not just happen. Sabo sits up, and Ace moves back, alarmed. He scrubs a hand over his face. God. Fuck. That really-

He really-

In the middle of a-

“I’m going to sleep,” Sabo mutters, already moving to the bedroom. “Don’t call.”

Ace tracks Sabo, huffing as the blond sulks. His phone vibrates in his pocket before he can say anything, and he answers it distractedly, checking the time. “Yeah?”

Sabo throws himself into bed and buries himself under the pillows, pulling the blanket up to hide the rest of him. Ace moves back into the room, murmuring into his phone. Sabo can’t make out the words. He’s not really trying to, anyway. He’s annoyed and frustrated and just wants to sleep, and forget, and forget some more.

“I’ll be back later,” Ace says, closer this time. Sabo unearths a hand to give him something resembling a wave, and then the door is shut, and he’s alone.

Or he thinks he is. Because apparently, he still can’t be sure. Because apparently, he’s still conjuring things up. And it really  _ bites. _ Like, it  _ really _ sucks, he just wants to be better, to be fixed, to be able to trust himself again.

The door opens again and Sabo uses his hands to push his chest up, tossing his head up to glare at the door. Ace stops short at Sabo’s glare, cutting his sentence off. His eyes are wide, worried, and Sabo relaxes, because this is his Ace.

“And- Um-” Ace stammers into the phone, until Sabo softens and turns away, waving him off. He lies down again as Ace moves to grab his keys from the dresser. “No, that’s not it,” he says, casting another glance to Sabo, but he’s already got his head half-buried under the pillows again, so he just leaves.

-

Ace settles on the couch with his laptop after dinner. Sabo moves from taking his medicine to slumping on the couch opposite, one of Lami’s books in his hands. He lies down, stretching across the cushions, and flips it open, and that’s how Ace knows he’s been staring for too long.

Data entry is too simple, though, and it’s easy to focus on Sabo instead, as he fills in the spreadsheets. He’s been seeing less of Lami’s books around, which means Sabo was working through them quicker than he’d have expected. It was a good thing they were going to the library the next morning. Ace didn’t want him to run out, turn to something else to do.

He still hadn’t asked about what happened, the day Sabo came home soaking wet and super angry, and he probably never would, now that time had passed, but he did stop to wonder. It wasn’t like Sabo to be so absentminded, so it couldn’t have been that he lost track of time and was pissed about being stuck in the rain. 

Well.

It wasn’t like the Sabo he knew, but there was a gap in his knowledge, and he was still learning how  _ this _ Sabo worked. Maybe he was more careless, forgetful, but it didn’t seem that way so far. 

Sabo speaks up before he can continue that line of thought, snapping him into the present.

“Why are you always working on school stuff here?”

Ace glances up to find Sabo’s eyes on him, from above the pages of his book. The answer comes easy, but it’s not the one he means to say. “I like spending time with you.” Sabo looks up further and Ace scrambles to recover. “If it’s something I can do remotely, I’d rather leave it for me to do here, instead of at the lab.” He shrugs, falling back on his earlier statement. “I’d rather be around you, than anywhere else.”

Sabo holds his gaze for another two seconds, then swiftly covers his face with his book. Ace thinks he spies red creeping on his skin, but he can’t see with the book in the way. It does things to him. He tries to tune it out, biting his lip, and moving back to his data entry.

It doesn’t help.

_ Hey, Sabo. What if . . ? _

_ What if. _

_ We- _

“Ace?”

Ace snaps out of his head, realizing he’s not typing, anymore. He looks over, and Sabo waits until their eyes meet to continue.

“Thank you.”

_ Ah. _ He’s not sure why that stings, as he resumes typing, but he strangely feels at peace, too. That was right. It was too soon. Sabo still wasn’t well. His medicine didn’t even work yet, from what he could tell. It wasn’t the time. Not yet.

He bites his lip.

Not yet.


	9. keep and hold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im close enough to doubling the overall word count so im posting this now. w the ch on the 10th i should have like.. 20k? left over?? thats at least a handful of updates so ill be set for a little while. its time to work on some other things now.
> 
> also i mentioned this was sweet but i forgot abt the super distressing part so uh. theres that too///  
> i dont think its too bad tho. no warnings for this one.

Sabo takes a cookie from the half-empty container and holds it in his mouth as he uses both hands to slide his ID card between his phone and the case. It’s a habit he’s had since high school, and now that he has a phone again, one that seemed to be returning.

Ace laughs a little as Sabo moves to the door, the giant cookie hanging from his mouth a little comical, but it skips right over Sabo’s head. He bites down and grabs it with a free hand, then pockets his phone to break a piece off. “Want some?”

Ace is swinging the front door open, but he turns back at Sabo’s query. He opens his mouth in lieu of an answer, and Sabo moves closer on his way out the door, setting the bite on Ace’s tongue.

Ace hums as he’s locking the door. “That’s good.”

“Yeah? I’m surprised you haven’t had one yet.”

He shrugs, twirling the keys around. “I got ‘em for you.”

Sabo glances over his shoulder to frown at Ace. “Hey,” he says, at the foot of the stairs, and spins around when Ace opens his mouth to answer. He shoves half the cookie past Ace’s parted lips, nibbles a little on the remaining half in his other hand, and skips the rest of the way to the car.

Ace stands there for a minute, tongue soaking up the chocolate flavor, until Sabo starts complaining about the car being locked. 

“Thanks, I guess,” he mutters as he gets behind the wheel. Sabo sinks in his seat and throws his heels on the dash. He’s licking his fingers when he mumbles something suspiciously like ‘yeah, sure’ and Ace is distracted turning on the car as he spies Sabo wiping his hand against the seat.

Lightning fast, Ace reaches out and jabs Sabo in the side, but it has the opposite effect of what he’d intended, the blond letting out an _eep!_ and moving his arms to shield the spot. He looks at Ace with wide eyes as his own begin to narrow, sliding his feet from the center dash more to his own side to be nearer to the door.

Then he drops his arms and turns to face the window, whistling as he tries to appear relaxed. Ace locks the doors not a second too soon, Sabo’s desperate pull on the handle resulting in nothing, and he’s pulled halfway onto the center console before his fingers can wrap around the lock. His surprised squeak quickly dissolves into laughter as Ace runs his fingers over his sides, and his feet drop from the dash to the window as he tries to twist in Ace’s hold. 

“W-Wait,” he gasps out, gripping Ace’s arms with little strength. His chest is heaving from effort when Ace leans forward over the console, so his face is above Sabo’s, and he can look down into his eyes when they squint open. 

“Guess some things never change,” he mutters, unable to contain his grin. Sabo can’t keep his mouth closed, and he laughs right in Ace’s face, and his eyes shut again, and it might be the most full of life Ace has seen him since he got back. That thought distracts him enough to let Sabo grab at his hands, squeezing them tight to hold them down.

“Stop,” Sabo breathes, the word echoing into another laugh. He sags on the console. “Let’s just g-o. Okay?”

“Yeah, alright.” Ace releases him and leans back, and Sabo takes a moment to straighten himself, dropping both feet to the floorboard. Ace puts the car in reverse and clicks in his seatbelt, and Sabo’s easy smile immediately disappears when he catches sight. His hands fly up from his lap so he can copy Ace, and though he’s not outright frowning, he’s definitely more muted as they head down the road.

Ace turns on the radio to fill the silence as he tries to figure out what to say, or if he _should_ say, but Sabo’s fingers close over his own to turn the dial up, the song playing a familiar one.

“Who’s playing tomorrow?” he asks, releasing Ace’s hand so he could use both to turn the wheel. 

“Baseball?” He glances over to see Sabo nod. “Law, Zoro, and Sanji you know. Luffy, I think, if he has off, and his friend Usopp. Penguin works with Law. Zoro knows Perona, uh, somehow. I’ve never gotten the full story. Sanji’s sister is busy, so they roped Sugar into coming. That should be ten.” He hums, as an afterthought crosses his mind. “Even if it’s nine, that works out. Usopp can’t hit the ball for shit, and he knows it, so he usually catches full-time when it’s uneven.”

Sabo snorts. “That’s a harsh way of putting it.”

“Yeah, well, you’ll see tomorrow.” Ace turns in to a parking spot and pockets his keys while Sabo pries the door open and makes a quick escape. Despite this, he still waits for Ace a few strides away from the car, on the sidewalk, and keeps pace with him as they walk.

“It’s not that far,” Sabo observes in a mumble, and Ace is close enough to catch it. “I could make the walk in twenty. Maybe.”

“Or you could drive?” Ace suggests, holding the door open. Sabo glances at him as he walks through. 

“Maybe,” he hums. “Or not,” he adds.

Ace shrugs. “Whatever you want.”

What Sabo wants is a library card, and he tells the older woman at the front desk such. She digs around and hands him a slip of paper and a pen, and Sabo writes down his full name and address. She turns to look at Ace, who had stepped back some, as Sabo is slipping his ID from his phone.

“What can I help you with?” she asks Ace. 

“Oh.” Ace raises his hands. “Uh.”

Sabo looks back at him, blinking at the distance, and snaps his case back on as Ace finds his words.

“Nothing.” He waves her off. “I’m good.”

She nods at him and reaches out to take Sabo’s card. A minute later he gets two back, and he stares at his name on the back as they’re walking through the stacks, Ace moving closer to get a look.

“At least they didn’t need a picture,” he jokes.

“That’s probably the best part,” Sabo agrees. He holds out his arms and flips the new card a few times. “Amazing. How many books can you carry?”

Ace snorts. “I think the question you should be asking is how many you can carry back.”

Sabo frowns lightly, already muttering to himself, ignoring Ace entirely. “If I get twelve, and they’re due in two weeks, that’s one a day. If I get ten and it takes me longer, I can recheck half for another week. If I-” He breaks off into mumbles Ace can’t comprehend, spinning on his heel to move down another row, and Ace sighs as he follows.

Ace loses track of the time they spend wandering around, but Sabo is obviously happy, so he doesn’t really care. He texts Lami while Sabo examines spines and pulls on the jacket slips to read the excerpts, thanking her for taking him out the other day.

 **[ 3:45 ]** His picture turned out good, right?  
**[ 3:45 ]** I like his hair like that

Ace glances over, watching as Sabo balances his stack on an empty section of shelving. He pulls a book out to hold in open both hands, bringing it close, and his hair falls to curtain his face, just barely leaving room for Ace to see his nose, his chin, the tip of his ear. 

**[ 3:46 ]** Yeah. Me too.

Ace sends the text and immediately braces his arms as several books are set atop it, pressing the screen awkwardly to his palms. He looks up to see Sabo smiling at him, hands free.

“Hold those, okay?” he says, then bounds off to another section. Ace sighs as he shuffles the books around to put his phone away.

Sabo ends up with eight, and Ace is responsible for carrying them all as Sabo steals the keys and runs outside. Ace doesn’t rush to catch up, this time, moving the door with his back to push it open. Sabo isn’t far, again, arms out to feel the wind rush by. He looks over at Ace and unlocks the car, eyes following the sound until he finds it. The library shared a parking lot with several other stores, and it had filled up while they were inside. One of them would’ve had to do it, because Ace didn’t remember where he parked, either, but it was still a pleasant surprise to see Sabo initiating it, especially considering his first reaction to the noise.

Ace thinks on that more as he slides the stack of books on the floor, nestled between Sabo’s knees. It’s late enough that Sabo agrees to lunch. They opt to pick something up and bring it home, and Ace works up his nerve to ask on the drive back.

“So . . do you think your medicine is doing anything?”

Sabo brings his eyes from the window to Ace, but the light turns green before he can properly look back. It’s quiet for a few moments.

“Yes,” Sabo finally answers. “Just not as much as I want.”

“Give it time,” Ace murmurs.

“Yeah,” Sabo mutters. Like a switch, his upbeat mood is gone, and Ace feels bad, knowing he caused it. 

“Some progress is better than none,” he amends, but Sabo doesn’t say anything back.

They make it through the door with all the books and the food, somehow. Ace is setting his drink down when his phone _pings,_ and he goes from casting it a cursory glance to unlocking the screen to call the sender. Sabo frowns when he comes in from setting the books down to find Ace talking animatedly with someone.

He takes a sip of his soda and leans forward on the table to watch Ace.

“I can’t believe they finally did it. Send me a picture, okay? Yeah?” Ace glances past Sabo to the clock. “Yeah, I can swing by. What happened to Camie?” His mouth falls open. “Oh. Well how many are there?” He chews down on his lip, glancing to Sabo. Sabo raises a brow at the action, sucking on his straw again.

“Yeah, okay. Give me a minute.” Ace ends the call and fixes Sabo with a face that screamed guilt, so much so that he sits down, popping the lid to his own container.

“What is it?”

“I’m gonna head up to the lab for a bit.” He gestures to his phone. “Deuce called. No one could come in today and he’s up there listing positives for a few test results. He didn’t leave til late last-”

“You don’t need my permission,” Sabo interrupts. He looks back up as Ace falls silent, shrugs. “Just go. I’ll read or whatever. Don’t forget your food.” 

Ace leans his arms on the back of the other chair. “I wish I could take you with me,” he admits. “I so would, but everyone has to have permission to enter, and I’m not the one who grants access.”

Sabo shrugs again. “I’m not interested in a bunch of moon plants. Go have fun. Text me on your way back.”

Ace quickly pockets his phone and keys and picks up his food. “You’re the best!” he calls, moving to the door. “I’ll see you later. Call if you need anything!”

Sabo rolls his eyes as the door shuts.

-

Sabo squints as he adjusts his position again, angling the pages so they picked up more of the artificial light instead of the fading light from the windows. It was a shame, really, because this book was really good, but he couldn’t get into it for very long before the lighting would dim and he’d have to get used to it all over again, breaking the immersion entirely. 

He gets another seven pages in before the setting sun makes the letters hard to read, and Sabo flips over on his stomach from his side so it’d get hit directly by the overhead light.

But it doesn’t help at all. And then he remembers there were no windows in the living room, the only sunlight from the door hidden by a partial wall, and what shone in from the small kitchen window that he couldn’t see from the couch he was lying on.

Sabo tips his head up until he’s staring at the ceiling light. No, it was definitely dimmed, but why?

Sighing, Sabo flips the book face-down on the arm of the couch to save his place, then gets up to turn the light off. He waits a little before moving the switch back up, and the light does come back on, but it quickly dims to where it had been before. 

Sabo frowns and switches it off again, only this time the lights don’t turn off, still bathing the room in a dim glow, and that’s when he figures out what was going on.

He tries one more time to turn the light on, and off again, but nothing changes. So he gives up, leaves the switch down, and takes his book into the kitchen. The sun is just beginning to set, so he turns the main light on to help supplement it, makes sure his chair is facing away from the main room, and sets his book on the table. 

Unfortunately, he doesn’t even reach the end of the chapter before the same thing begins to happen. The first time he gets up and closes the window blinds, sure that was what was causing it. But then it dims again, and again, until he can’t make out any of the words without burying his face into the pages. Sabo drops his head against the back of the chair with a long sigh and rubs at his eyes.

He leaves the book alone and turns off the kitchen light. Everything is bathed in darkness. Sabo moves over and tries the main room light again, but no matter how many times he flips it it refuses to turn on.

Sabo digs out his phone and takes a seat in the dark. Ace answers after the first ring, cutting off the second.

_“Hey, you good? I know it’s been a few hours, I just got caught up in it all. We’re almost done, so I’ll be back soon.”_

“Either the power’s gone out or I’m going insane,” Sabo mutters, curling his legs to his chest and tossing one arm loosely around them.

Ace takes a moment to process this, and then another moment to reply. _“Nevermind, I’ll leave now. Just sit tight.”_

“Wait,” Sabo says, a little urgency catching on the end. He grits his teeth, hard, until his jaws hurt, because he definitely didn’t meant to sound like _that,_ and yet.

“Can you just . . stay on the phone with me?” Sabo asks, after recovering enough to make his voice neutral again, so it doesn’t even sound like a question anymore.

 _“Yeah.”_ Ace’s voice is softer, understanding. There’s wind in the speaker, so he must be outside now. Really Sabo should just let him go. School wasn’t far. He’d be here soon. And yet.

And yet.

Sabo’s hand fists tighter around the phone.

_“Sugar’s our age but she’s only four foot eight.”_

Sabo frowns, trying to place where he’s heard the name.

_“Well, you’ll see her tomorrow. I’d prefer Reiju, but damn if Sugar can’t run. She can turn a single into almost a triple. If her legs were a little longer she’d be there, but damn if she wasn’t fast already. Perona is Zoro’s friend, I think. It’s hard to call them friends. I think they lived together at one point, but it was entirely against their will. Her hair is super long and she always wears it tied up and poking through her hat when we play. You’ll definitely recognize her when you see.”_

Sabo works hard to relax his shoulders and lean back against the cushions. “Who’s the doctor?”

_“Oh, Penguin? He’s not, but he works in the hospital. It’s some specialized thing like Lami, but hell if I know. He’s super tall. Like, he’s taller than Law. He can jump, too. You hit a ball low in the outfield and it’s a guaranteed out. Oh, right, I didn’t explain that yet. Since there’s five per team, it’s usually one person at center, then the others guarding short and second. Pitcher covers infield. Catchers do whatever. If it’s Zoro, he won’t do shit. If it’s anyone else, they’ll run down the lines.”_

“Sounds intense,” Sabo mutters. His teeth feel like they’re about to start chattering. He’s not cold, so he knows the reason behind it.

_“Nah, it’s more laidback. Hey, I’m unlocking the door, so if you hear it, it’s me.”_

Right on cue Sabo hears jangling, and he can’t help but automatically tense back up. He doesn’t say anything, but he must breathe hard or something, because Ace stays on the line. Sabo stays hunkered over on the couch until the door opens, then uncurls his legs as it closes, then peeks his head over the back as light fills the entryway.

“Sabo?” Ace says into the speaker, a second before he spots him and his lips melt into a smile. “Lights work,” he says, still holding the phone. Sabo ends the call and stands, circling around the couch, and he _knows_ they work but his mind is focused on the other two and the dark and mostly the dark and what he saw in the dark last time-

He crashes into Ace but Ace is ready, encircling him in warm arms, holding him tight. They stay like that for a long time, standing in the illuminated entryway, no conversation necessary. 

“Thank you,” Sabo tells him, but he makes it sound like an apology. “I know it’s me. But they started dimming, and then they wouldn’t turn on, and I-”

He breaks off, catching his tongue with his teeth to keep the noise in his throat from escaping, and Ace catches the silence before it can settle.

“You’re okay,” he murmurs, moving a hand up to stroke Sabo’s hair. “I know it’s scary. It’s okay to admit that. Hey, you wanna go somewhere? You don’t have to eat dinner, if you don’t want. We can go get ice cream or something, and you can take your meds with that. Then come home and sleep. That sound good? Whatever you want.”

Sabo breathes in deep and he hates how shaky it is. “Why are you always derailing yourself for me?”

Ace almost say it. It’s at the tip of his tongue, it’s right there, and he almost does. But Sabo is shaking in his arms, and he doesn’t know what would cause a negative reaction at this point. So he swallows it down and goes for a lesser truth. “Because you’re worth it. You’ve always been worth it. I would do _anything_ for you. That’s never going to change.”

Sabo’s inferiority complex kicks up a storm, bubbling in his gut, rising to his chest. He grits his teeth and grabs Ace tighter and tries to shove it back down. It’s the same thing. Nothing has changed. He still feels worthless, and here Ace is, saying he’s _everything_ when really it’s the _opposite_ and Sabo can’t stand it but he loves to hear it, he’s always loved to hear it, that he was worth something, that he meant something, that someone cared for him as much as Ace did even if he didn’t deserve it. 

“But I left,” Sabo whispers, and he _hates_ how pathetic he sounds but he can’t help it because he _feels_ pathetic.

“And you came back,” Ace answers, so soft, right near Sabo’s ear. Sabo’s eyes open and, god, he’s crying now. He steps back to dry his tears because there’s only so much he can take, but Ace won’t let him go far, and after seeing what Sabo was doing, he grabs his hands to hold them still, then raises his thumbs to wipe across Sabo’s cheeks instead. Sabo stops breathing when he presses into the hollows below Sabo’s eyes, but it’s fleeting, as he smoothes out the skin and continues a track down. 

Sabo reaches up to grab at Ace’s wrists and tug them away, then takes a deep breath and looks up into Ace’s eyes. “I’m okay,” he says, words slow, careful. “Can we go?”

Ace slides his hands down so they rest in Sabo’s. “We can go. Do you know where?”

It’s cold when they step outside. Sabo’s little shiver is involuntary, and it’s not even that bad, but it doesn’t stop Ace from shrugging his jacket off and placing it around Sabo instead. 

“I want one of those fried pies they sell at fast food places,” he admits, tugging at the zipper. 

“Just one?”

“Maybe two.”

“Just two?”

Sabo rolls his eyes and turns on the heater as they fall into the car. They end up pulling in the drive-thru, and Ace orders eight apple pies for them to share. Sabo rolls his eyes as he’s handed the bag, and he seals the top shut, but they don’t go back to the apartment, parking in an empty lot instead. Ace reaches for the bag and flips on the overhead light and hands Sabo one of the boxes, setting the rest on the empty cupholders to free up the console.

The car is warm and the food is good. Sabo lets himself have this, the immersion, the _goodness,_ and doesn’t spare a single thought to how the rest of the day had gone. It was going to end on a good note, with Ace resting an elbow on the console so he can reach out and brush a crumb from Sabo’s face. He’ll laugh, and Ace will laugh, and it will all be good, and that’s all that matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see you all in 2 weeks !


	10. move over, make room

It’s not a proper field, but Ace brings Sabo out to a pretty big park and he can already see the mound off to the side the others were gathered around. He shuts the car door and moves around to Ace’s side when a collection of honks startles him. Sabo stops even with the headlight, shoulders raised, and looks over to see Luffy leaning out the window of a beat up truck. He raises the arm resting against the side to wave at Sabo, million-watt grin on his face, and pulls into the space beside them on the curb as Ace moves to Sabo’s side and throws one arm around his shoulders. Sabo uncrosses his arms and relaxes, nodding as Ace raises a brow in question. The truck shuts off and Luffy piles out, tossing the keys into the floorboard. It’s hot today, and the windows of the old thing are rolled down, yet Sabo doubts anyone would try and drive off with it.

The passenger jumps out the opposite side with a snicker and moves to climb over into the trunk. Luffy moves towards Ace and Sabo first, shoving Ace off to wrap Sabo in a hug.

“I’m _so glad_ you came today!” he half-yells, squeezing and threatening to lift Sabo off the ground. 

“Yeah, missed you too.” Sabo’s unable to keep the smile off his face at Luffy’s attitude, but he does reach up to flick his ear, causing him to release Sabo with a whine. “Do me a favor and don’t give me a heart attack next time.”

“Seriously, Luf, what’s with all the honking?” Ace grumbles. 

Luffy moves back to the trunk, arms behind his head. “That was Usopp’s idea,” he lies, looking away as he says it. He piles into the trunk the same way the other did, by grabbing onto the side and climbing the tire. 

“Don’t be sayin’ that about me, Luffy!” snaps Usopp, standing to full height. Sabo is surprised to see him over the cabin of the truck, considering he was around Luffy’s height. They both pile out the side and land on their feet on the grass, multiple equipment bags on their person. Usopp turns and jerks a hand out the best he can. “You’re Sabo, then? Nice to meet ‘cha! The name’s Usopp.”

“Right.” Sabo lets his arm be jerked in a firm shake and then they’re all headed towards the mound. Sabo counts six heads, so they were the last ones in. Law is the first one to stand up, sighing as he moves to take a smaller bag from Usopp. The boys drop the rest near the mound, unzipping them all and tossing everything out. Law digs out a bunch of popsicle sticks and motions for Sabo.

“We draw for teams,” he explains. “Each color is a position, but it’s more a suggestion, at this point. Just pay attention to the number.”

“Got it.” Sabo barely has the words out before Ace pushes a mitt into his chest, and he scrambles to grab it before it can fall. It’s an infielder glove, he recognizes, what would have been cherry coloring now worn away to a dark copper.

“Like I said, we all pretty much know where we go,” Law says, waving the sticks as he moves to the huddle. “You can always trade gloves if you need to.”

“There’s only two bats, so swing around whichever doesn’t feel the worst,” Ace tells him, and Sabo frowns at the thought.

“Oh, so a tall bat and a short bat,” he mutters. Ace snickers and moves to ruffle his hair, and Sabo snaps his hand away.

“Hey, we’re near the same height. I’m in the same boat.”

“You two, come draw!” Law barks. There’s three sticks left. Sabo draws an orange and Ace a blue. The remaining stick is Law’s, a yellow with a 1 across the body. Law glances over as Ace holds his stick up for Sabo to see another 1. Sabo frowns as he shows his own, and Law sighs in relief.

“Thank god,” he mumbles. “Playing you two on the same team would be asking too much.”

“Just like old times, though,” Ace says, winking, and Sabo doesn’t have to ask what positions the colors meant, then.

“You’re with Luffy,” Law grunts, motioning with his head to Luffy jogging over from placing the last base. “Five minutes for a starting order,” he calls out, walking over to a separate group.

Luffy jogs right up to him and grabs the popsicle stick from Sabo’s hand, gasping at the color. “Oh it must be fate,” he swoons, grabbing Sabo’s hand to tug him into a makeshift huddle with Sanji, Usopp, and a girl he doesn’t know.

Luffy takes care of that. “Perona, this is Sabo. Sabo’s our second.”

“Yeah?” she calls around a hunk of gum. She blows a bubble and lets it pop before nodding to him. “I’m your short.” She waves around a yellow stick, realizes her mistake, and sighs. “Kay, who’s got it?”

“That’s me!” Usopp pipes up, trading a blue for the yellow, which he immediately passes to Sanji. Luffy chunks his stick at him and Usopp squawks at it hits him in the stomach, dropping into the dirt. Instead of chucking one back, Usopp holds onto them both, then points to Sabo.

“Second? Catcher.” He points to himself. “Pitcher.” Sanji. “Center.” Luffy. Then he opens his hands. “Everyone give me your draws.”

Sabo steps forward and tosses his stick into the pile. Luffy’s hand is on his shoulder before he can back back up, and he’s grinning as he nods to Sanji.

“Sabo’s leadoff!” he announces, and Sanji’s eyes widen.

“Hah? Are you nuts, Luffy?”

Luffy shakes his head. “Nope, I’m serious! Sabo is totally faster than you.” He shakes Sabo’s shoulders, for emphasis, and Sabo frowns as he realizes he has no say in the matter. “All that army training? Buffing? Sanji. C’mon.”

Sanji gives Sabo a once over, scoffs, then rolls his eyes. “Nah, there’s no way. No offense,” he adds, and okay, that ticks Sabo off a bit.

“You been running since you graduated? Didn’t think you made it to school with an athlete scholarship.” Sabo tips his head, crosses his arms. “Five years is a long time, Sanji.”

“Fine!” Sanji spits. “We’ll race. Hundred meters to the mound.” He points over to the dirt. “Luffy, you judge. First to tag your hand wins.”

“Okay, okay!” Luffy races off, cackling as he kicks up dirt on the mound and Law calls for him to knock it off. 

Perona hums and backs up, mentally measuring the distance. “Here,” she says, stopping with her arms crossed. Sabo and Sanji move on either side of her, and Perona steps out of their way. 

“I’ll call!” Usopp announces, near the halfway mark. He has a hand high in the air, and he waits for the two blonds to settle before bringing it down. “Go!”

Sabo pushes off in easy strides and darts past Usopp, who struggles to move out of the way. He tags Luffy’s hand and it echoes as Sanji stops and crouches, huffing both in need of air and in frustration.

“How the fuck,” he gasps, and Luffy claps both hands together, jumping up and down on the mound.

“Sabo wins, Sabo wins!” he yells, and not a second later Sanji recovers and barrels into him, sending them both rolling in the grass.

“Quit ruining the mound!” he snarls, and Luffy laughs in his face.

“It’s okay, Sanji, you can be second!” He reaches up to pat Sanji’s head and nearly gets his fingers chomped off.

“I’ll roundup,” Perona says, offering Sabo a hand. He takes it gratefully, then processes her words.

“Wait, you will?”

“Law and Luffy like to duke it out in cleanup, if Zoro hasn’t called it,” she explains. “Usopp is fast enough to cover last, _if_ he can get the ball!” She stresses this last part, glancing to Usopp as he trots up to start fixing the mound.

“Ah, I’ll see!” he claps his hands together as she glares. “I mean, I’ll try, I’ll try! But we’re batting second. I hope my hands won’t fall off before then.”

“Hey, at least I’m not Law!” Sanji pipes up, him and Luffy still tussling.

“How good are you with hitting?” Sabo asks Perona, stuck on the earlier conversation. She turns to him with a bored look.

“Well, I practice with Zoro. You know how he is.”

He does, and suddenly, he has a startling amount of confidence in her. He gives her a thumbs up and she smiles before popping another bubble, then nods behind them.

Sabo turns to see a short girl trotting up to him, and what he assumes is Law’s friend towering behind. 

“Are you Sabo?” the girl asks, and then sticks out a hand before he can answer. “I’m Sugar! I guess we’re sharing second today.”

Sabo has to resist bending down to shake her hand, and he reminds himself Ace mentioned they were the same age. She has a cap tucked under one arm, and once both hands are free she pushes her bangs back and tucks the hat over them. It’s cute, this minty green, almost as long as Sabo’s. Longer, if it wasn’t fluffed out, probably.

“We’ll see how that turns out,” says the tall guy. He holds out his hand and Sabo pastes on a smile, enduring his third handshake of the day. “Penguin.”

“Sabo. You’re the outfielder, right?”

Penguin laughs. “Ace mentioned it?” Sabo nods and he nods back. “We both usually are.”

“Guarding second should be a breeze compared to that,” Sugar boasts, and Perona snorts.

“Tell that to Sanji.”

Sabo blinks. “Sanji plays second? Aw, I could’ve sworn he was a decent pitcher,” he mutters.

“He is, when Reiju isn’t here. But when she is he’s outclassed.”

“Lami plays second while Ace is short!” Sugar pipes up. 

“Luffy’s usually at work,” Penguin admits. 

“It’s so different today,” Perona grunts. “Not that we’re not happy to have you.”

“Uh, right,” Sabo mutters, starting to feel uncomfortable. Penguin must sense this, because he guides Sugar away.

“Hey Sabo!” Sanji calls, and Sabo wanders up to the fixed mound. Sanji is wearing away the middle, one glove folded to his side. “They’ll send Sugar up first. She’s stupid fast, but I can force her into a line or a grounder. Just be ready. If you can’t make first, Perona will be on second.” He glances up from his shoes. “Can you catch a ball?”

Sabo rolls his eyes. “Why would I suddenly not be able to?”

“Law said you were fucked up,” Sanji says bluntly, lowering his voice. 

Sabo’s eyes widen. Ace, he suspects. Or maybe he told him himself, at that one party. He schools his expression and glances over at right field, where Luffy is zooming around, unable to contain his energy. “I should be fine. If you wanna throw one my way before we start-”

“I’ll think on it.” Sanji puts his glove on as Usopp crouches beside home plate. “Watch out for Ace,” he tosses over his shoulder, as Sabo is retreating to his position.

“Huh?”

Sabo glances back to see Ace leaning against the second bat, watching Sugar take practice swings. He looks up and winks as he locks eyes with Sabo.

“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” Perona mutters to herself, hunched over near second. It’s loud enough for Sabo to overhear, and he bristles on instinct, turning to look at her.

Perona adjusts her hat and catches Sabo’s glare with the motion. She squints at him. “What? That’s not it? Sanji may have mentioned it, but it was all past tense.”

“You sure seem close with Sanji,” Sabo retorts.

“I’m dating his sister.”

Sabo blinks, caught off guard. “Ah, sorry, guess I took that wrong.”

“Yeah, you did.” Perona spits her gum in the dirt and buries it with her glove. “That’s alright, you can make it up to me.” She moves from a crouch to her feet and sidesteps several paces right. “Make for first,” she calls, nodding to the base. “Hey, Usopp!”

Usopp glances over as Sanji winds up, nods, and then seamlessly transitions from a catch into a stand to hurl the ball Perona’s way. Sabo watches her grab it from the air, backing up to third, and stomp down on the plate. She turns sharply on her heel. 

“Two, two!” she calls, and Sabo falters. She’s already winding up, though, so he goes from backtracking to sprinting to second. But he’s already late, and he has to dive to keep the ball from going to the outfield. If there’s one thing he learned to do well over the past few years, it was to fucking roll, and he’s back upright in an instant. A blur enters his left and he tosses the ball to base before his head is back on straight. Sanji looks a little surprised, but he manages to catch it, already standing on second.

“Damn, didn’t even let me speak.” He trots forward to help Sabo up. “How’d you know I was there?”

“I’ve gotten good at seeing things from here,” Sabo mutters, pointing to the corner of his eye.

“Hey, not bad!” Perona calls, moving over. “You could let that go, though. Luffy is close enough, and the kid’s got one hell of an arm to zing it where it needs to go.”

“Noted,” Sabo grunts. Right. He had forgotten he had Luffy, of all people, behind him. The endless source of stamina himself. 

“Let’s start already!” Luffy whines, and Sugar echoes his sentiments as she steps up to bat.

Sabo moves to crouch between first and second, then remembers what Sanji had said and shifts slightly closer to first. Perona moves in, solidly near the middle, and nods to him when Sabo risks a glance. Her hair really is long, but it bunched nice in the back, out of the way. Sabo doesn’t know Reiju as well as he does Sanji, but he thinks he remembers her dating another long-haired girl, back in high school. 

Sanji plants his foot at the front of the mound and Sabo tunes back in, watching as the ball curves sharp and Usopp stretches out his glove to make the catch.

“Aw, shit,” Sanji mutters. He raises his mitt for the ball again and Sugar drops the front of her bat to the dirt, scanning the field. 

When Sanji pitches again, the ball just barely doesn’t curve enough, and Sugar licks her lips before slamming it left. She tosses the bat aside as the ball grounds and skids to the line. By the time Perona gets her hands on it, Sugar is already past first, and past Sabo. “Sanji!” she calls, throwing it to the pitcher already moving to second. It reaches his mitt before he reaches base and just as Sugar passes, and he digs his heels into the ground, digging the ball from his glove.

Perona curses as she rights herself, too far infield, and then stops before she can run to third, the ball whizzing past her. Luffy catches it perfectly from Sanji’s throw, but he’s such a little showoff he has to do it in midair, and by the time he lands Sugar is on base. “Safe!” she calls, dragging it out, and stops there, choosing not to risk going home with Usopp now in possession of the ball, Luffy having tossed it as soon as he realized he wouldn’t tag her in time.

They all recollect themselves as Ace tosses the short bat aside. Zoro reaches for it, realizes what it was, and kicks it away with a huff. Ace grins back at him and cocks his bat over his shoulder, stepping in front of Usopp. 

Perona is near third now, and Luffy comes to guard the gap it creates. Sabo considers moving over, but Sanji’s warning is sharp in his mind, so he plays it careful, slightly off center, closer to first. 

Sanji earns Ace a strike but he just frowns, shakes his head. “That’s not the one I’m waiting for,” he mutters, and Usopp snorts.

“You really think we’ll give it to you?”

Ace shrugs. “It might not matter if you don’t. Perona and Sabo don’t have a lot of chemistry.”

He gets another strike before he gets serious, positioning the bat again. “Alright, alright.” 

Sanji’s next ball dips low, and Ace probably should have let that one go but he’s already swinging, aiming for the space between Sabo and second. The trajectory ends up sending the ball up, and it’s a lot easier to grab something that’s not headed for the dirt, so when Sabo steps forward he does so with his glove out. He’s not fast enough to react when it slams in, clenching his hand too late, but he somehow is to catch it with his bare hand when it pops out of the glove. 

“Home!” Perona calls, and Sabo _knows_ that, but his hand had been outstretched, and it takes too much time to wind back and send it to Usopp. Sugar scores to the cheers of her teammates, but Sabo is focused on Ace, frozen not even halfway to first.

“Ah,” he says. “You still got it.”

Sanji pushes into him and Sabo is distracted as he’s shaken, then as Sanji pries his hand forward to look at his palm. “That was amazing,” he gasps. “I’m surprised you’re not bleeding. How bad does it hurt?”

Sabo blinks a few times, looking down to his reddened palm. “It stings, but I’m good.”

“Good. Good!” Sanji knocks his shoulder, grinning. “I told you to watch, right? It’s not over yet, though. Go ahead and move to right.” He jogs back over to the mound and Sabo moves more into the outfield as he spies the next batter.

“Nah, further!” Sanji calls, as Perona stops only a few paces behind third.

“Don’t patronize me!” she snaps. She pounds her fist into her glove. “Bring it on!” she growls, eyes all on Zoro.

Zoro makes a show of shrugging his shoulders out as Sanji fingers the ball, adjusting his grip. He brings the bat up and smirks at Perona, then tips his head to Luffy in deep center as Sanji winds up.

It’s not a bad pitch, not by any means. It’s just that it’s Zoro hitting it, and as soon as the _clang_ meets Sabo’s ears, he stands back up, unable to do anything but watch as the ball sails overhead.

Unfortunately for Zoro, Luffy doesn’t know the meaning of giving up, and he has his shoes dug near the highest rungs of the fence, balancing with one hand on the top bar that he lets go of to reach higher with his glove. Sabo frowns and runs over, because it’s crazy and he can see it’s still short, but it’s Luffy, so something has to happen, right?

Luffy stretches out his torso and throws his glove in the air so that it smacks into the passing ball, sending them both down on the same side of the field. Sabo’s eyes widen as Luffy unbalances from the movement, falling headfirst as his feet unhook from the links. He’s put at ease when Luffy reaches back to catch the chain with his hands, swinging his feet to follow the motion, and then releasing his hold before his arms can be jerked.

Sabo picks up the ball as Luffy lands in a heap, a harried “I’m okay!” reaching his ears as he turns to shoot the ball over to Sanji at second. Zoro is rounding the base as Sanji makes the catch, so there’s plenty of time for him to toss it to Perona. She taps Zoro lightly as he reaches her, not even bothering to resist, too out of breath from sprinting through three bases.

“Gotcha.”

“I hate you,” Zoro says between huffs, hands still on his knees. Perona passes the ball to Usopp. 

“That’s two!”

“Two! Two!” Usopp calls, raising the appropriate number of fingers.

“Are you _sure_ you’re okay?” Sabo stresses, manually rolling Luffy’s shoulders at each arm. He’s sat up now, still winded from the hard landing, but he’s smiling, too, and that already eases some of Sabo’s concern.

“Promise!” Luffy laughs. “I wish I could’ve seen your face. I didn’t mean to slip like that, I swear, but it was so cool, wasn’t it?”

“It was dangerous,” Sabo mutters, dropping Luffy’s arms to pull his cheek instead.

“Awh I thou’ i’was fum,” Luffy tells him, then swats at Sabo until his face is free. “Let’s do it again!” He moves to his knees and ends up planting both hands in the dirt for balance, which showed just how _okay_ he was. “Hey Zoro!” he calls. “Hit another one!”

“Go to hell!” Zoro calls back, walking past home. “Fucking patronizing me,” he sulks, moving past Ace, who’s in the grass cackling. “Who _gets_ something like that? I was robbed, I tell you. Robbed.”

Perona comes out to grab Luffy as he and Sabo finally come to a stand, catching his shoulder as he dips forward. She frowns. “Maybe you should take it easy. Sit against the fence or something.”

“Who’s gonna get Traffy?” Luffy whines.

Sabo grabs his other side and he and Perona haul Luffy until he’s back against the chainlink. “We’ll get ‘em out for ya,” Perona promises, punching Sabo’s shoulder with her glove. It’s not hard, though, and he thinks it’s some form of approval. “Right?”

“Sit tight for one more out, Lu.” Sabo taps Luffy’s face with the back of his hand. Instead of retaliating, Luffy grips the fence with his hands. “Then we’ll come drag you back.”

“Fine,” Luffy whines. 

Sanji jogs up as he and Perona make their way back, bringing his glove to his face even as he backtracks to keep pace with them. “I can try a one-and-done, but if I fuck it up it’ll leave the ball on the mound.”

“Don’t fuck up,” Perona states, then breaks off to jog to regular shortstop position. 

“If it drops, pick it up and toss it to first.” Sabo’s a little more gentler with his words. “I’ll send it to second if it’s too late.” He glances back to see Luffy sliding down the fence. “Don’t leave him out there too long.”

“You’re both very reassuring,” Sanji mutters, dropping his glove to his side.

“Ain’t got all day now, three,” Law calls. Sanji grits his teeth at the insult as Usopp throws him the ball. He did the same thing with Reiju, referring to her by her number, but she was much less of a batter than him.

“If I was leadoff, I’d make you eat those words,” he mutters. “But since I’m not, I’ll end you here.”

Usopp brushes two fingers to the left and Sanji shakes his head. He tips his head forward and Usopp nods in understanding, raising the glove up higher than usual.

His first attempt Law grazes the ball with the underside of his bat. It goes tumbling into Usopp’s glove, and he blinks down at it, not sure what had happened. It’s a strike either way, so the ball goes back to Sanji. Luffy is sitting out in the dirt and Usopp promises himself he’ll drag Luffy back alone if they get this next one, but it’s _Law,_ and Law’s a beast, and Luffy is heavier than Usopp, so okay maybe not by himself but-

A loud _smack_ draws Usopp from his thoughts and he looks up to see Law hit a linedrive that lands soundly in Sanji’s glove, stretched a little to the left. Sabo is positioned directly behind the ball’s trajectory, glove up, but he relaxes as soon as Sanji makes the catch.

“That’s three,” Sanji says.

Sabo leans his head back. “Good you go-”

“Luffy!” Usopp calls as he rips off his catcher’s mask and abandons his glove in a mad dash to the fence. Sabo leaves him to it, tearing his glove off to toss it to Ace before he can get too close.

He takes the longer bat from Law and plants himself in the dirt behind Zoro while he waits for Usopp to haul Luffy back to collect the catching gear.

“I don’t think this will fit,” Perona confesses, holding out her glove for Sugar. 

“That’s okay, I brought my own!”

“Perfect.”

Penguin hurries out to help Usopp drag Luffy in and he thinks Ace and Sanji are making a bet, but he’s not really paying attention anymore.

Sabo tilts his head back and squints, lifting an arm to shield his face. A hat is squashed onto his hair and Sabo grabs it as he leans further back to see Zoro coming around, hatless. He fixes it properly as Zoro takes a seat in front and starts putting on the shinpads. 

“You okay?” he grunts, and Sabo finds it weird, that Sanji was older than him and yet he’s always found it’s Zoro that acts the oldest, especially in moments like these. 

He didn’t know if it was due to the exercise, but he actually did feel a little off. Not that he was going to admit it to Zoro, but it’s the thought that counts.

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” Sabo puffs, looking back up at the sky. 

“I heard what happened at Law and Lami’s.”

Sabo’s eyes narrow, and he turns to look at Zoro’s back. “Something happened?”

Zoro pauses in fixing the chest protector, tipping his head to fix Sabo with an even stare. “You don’t remember?”

Sabo mimes drinking and Zoro’s mouth falls open in understanding.

“Sanji said something about Law telling you guys,” Sabo admits quietly.

“He said you have Schizo.” Zoro waits until Sabo nods to come to a stand, pick up his glove, and crouch behind the box. Law buries a ball in the glove not long after. He shrugs and throws it back. “It’s whatever. Not my problem, right?” He hums. “Unless you want it to be. Then I gotchu.”

Sabo smiles. “Ace is more than enough, right now.”

“Yeah? Good.” Zoro stands to throw the ball again, moving to a deep crouch after and setting the mitt low. “He really missed you. We all did, but. Ace was different.”

Sabo settles back again and glances to the left. The black blip disappears and he shuts his eyes, afraid he was going to start seeing bugs crawl around in the dirt. He thought he was past this. “I know,” he breathes, too quiet for Zoro to hear as the ball smacks into his glove.

“Nami says she’s sorry.”

“What did Nami do?”

“She dropped the wine bottle at the party.”

Sabo peels his eyes open, just a little, and tries to think. “Let’s talk about it later,” he decides.

“You’re up, then.”

Sabo is slow as he gets to his feet, stalling out the fuzzies by swishing the bat in the air. The hat helps. He presses the bill lower over his face. It’s getting hotter, and though the undershirt he wore definitely was protecting his arms from scratches, it was also starting to stick to him. 

Sabo sets himself up on Zoro’s right and flicks the bill up higher on his head so he can see better. He lets the bat hang in front of him, bobbing once, twice, until he feels comfortable enough to hold it regularly. “Okay,” he says to Zoro, and he responds by pounding a fist into his glove, signaling Law to start.

Sabo is ready for the ball, but he’s not, he realizes, as the pitch flies at him. It’s so much different from fielding. It’s a whole new level of intense.

Sabo pulls a face and leans away, half-stepping back for good measure. The ball lands solidly in Zoro’s gloves, but the matter of it being a strike wasn’t the issue.

Zoro holds on to the ball. “You good?” he asks, and Sabo glances at him, realizes his eyes are still blown, and works to school his expression. _Mirror, mirror,_ he thinks, looking at Zoro’s calm indifference. 

“I’m fine,” he says, stepping back up, tossing the bat back over his shoulder. Zoro throws Law the ball and crouches back down.

Okay. He could do this. Now that he’d gotten a taste, he knew what to expect. This was baseball. It was a baseball. He was here. This was fine.

Sabo inhales and drops his shoulders. When Law pitches next, his bat makes contact and sends the ball flying high left. It might go out. He should probably run.

But he drops the bat like a deadweight instead, as his hands lock up. Then he tips over entirely, passing out, with just a brief moment to realize the force of the hit had knocked Zoro’s hat clean off.

“Sabo!” Zoro bites out, shuffling forward to catch the blond as he collapses. The ball sails past the fence.

-

“Oh my god, Sabo, you-” Ace breaks off as he looks to first to find no one there. Zoro’s shout gets his attention, and before he knows it he’s running over, red glove left forgotten in the dirt. Zoro has Sabo held, and Luffy has crawled forward from where he’d been sitting by Usopp. Sanji is there before Ace, crouching over Zoro, and Law is already hurrying off the mound, ditching his glove.

Ace takes over for Zoro, moving Sabo until his head is on his legs. He purses his lips as he spies the trail of blood running fresh from his nose. It was probably the heat that caused it. But then why was- From the hit? But that didn’t-

“Sugar, go to my car and get a pack of tissues,” Law orders, tossing her his keys. She nods and runs off, and Law moves Sabo’s head so it’s tilted, and the blood starts draining out instead of in, spilling slowly into the dirt.

“It was a regular hit,” Zoro confesses. “His hands started twitching after it, but that’s all I got.”

But he had tensed up on the first pitch. Did it trigger something? Did the force of the ball colliding with the bat do something? Was it related at all? Ace’s brows crease as he tries to think through it.

“Sabo,” Luffy murmurs, too close, and Ace realizes everyone was crowded around them. His head swings up.

“Give him some space!” he snaps, and everyone immediately moves away. Law stays, and Sugar must’ve come back, because he taking one, two, three tissues from the pack and using them to wipe up Sabo’s face. He gives the pack to Ace with his other hand.

“Pinch the bridge of his nose,” he says, voice near monotone. “Forty-five seconds.”

Ace can do that. He takes a tissue and starts counting instead of thinking but then the incessant thinking was what had stopped the worrying and now there’s a pool of dread in his stomach as he counts and-

He thinks he feels Sabo twitch and it’s enough for him to reach out and stop Law from messing with his phone. “Wait,” he says, with Law’s eyes on him. Forty-five comes and goes and Ace slowly releases the pressure. “The nosebleed is unrelated. He gets them from dry weather.”

Law thinks on this. “It is hot today,” he finally mutters. Sabo shifts in Ace’s lap, just a little, but they both notice it. “Okay.” He slides his phone away and gathers the used tissues to dispose of them.

Ace leans forward and puts his arms on either side of Sabo’s head, shielding him both from prying eyes and the harsh sunlight. It’s not enough, because Sabo’s eyes open and immediately close to slits. “Ace?” he mumbles, word heavy on his tongue.

“Hey.” He tries to be calm, but he’s not Law, and he doesn’t have enough practice, and suddenly he really feels like crying. “What do you remember?”

Sabo closes his eyes because it’s easier, and smoothes his face over in thought. “I got a hit, I think.”

Ace smiles, shakes his head. “You tied the game. Zoro said your hands got shaky, then you got a nosebleed, then you fainted.”

“God, that’s pathetic,” Sabo murmurs. “How is it a tie if I didn’t even-” He pauses to breathe, sucking in a slow breath. “Round the bases?”

“Well, game’s over now. We can just say no one won.”

“Over?” Sabo opens his eyes again. He’s having better luck of it, this time. “Did everyone leave?”

“Law is here,” Ace admits, as Law wanders back over. He hadn’t noticed, but everyone else had packed up and left. Ah. He’d have to apologize later.

“How you holding up?” Law asks, settling on Ace’s right. He has a pen light in his hand, and he turns it on, dimming it.

“I feel heavy. Not bad.”

Law brings up the light. “Open,” he instructs, and Sabo pries his eyes open wider. He brightens the light several times, then does the same thing to the other eye. “Your pupils are good,” he mutters.

“My throat feels funny.”

“You taste blood?”

“Yeah.” Sabo blinks. “Oh.”

Law glances to Ace and he nods. He puts the light away. “Can we sit you up?”

“Yeah,” Sabo croaks.

“I have water in my car. All yours,” Law tells him. He rises on his knees and slides a hand under Sabo’s back, and another under his shoulders, supporting his neck. Ace shifts until his legs are spread, and Law can lean Sabo back against his chest. He adjusts to the weight and then slides his legs back up to be on either side of Sabo’s knees. Sabo hums and stretches his arms out, using Ace’s legs as a rest. He flexes his fingers.

“My hands locked up, I think.” Sabo is talking so slow that even if he’s completely aware, it’s clear he’s not alright, and it pains Ace to acknowledge. “Was it the swing?”

“You shouldn’t worry about that right now,” Law assures him. He reaches up and presses a palm to his temple, the back of his skull, his forehead. “Any pain?”

“No.” Sabo frowns. It pulls heavy at his lips. He swallows rough and as if by some sort of trigger, his nose starts bleeding again. Law sees it first, pressing a tissue to it until he’s sure Sabo is strong enough to hold onto it. 

“How normal are these?”

Sabo accepts another tissue and rolls this one up to stuff in his nose. “Depends on the weather,” he mumbles. “Often enough.”

“You wanna stand yet?”

Sabo thinks on it, then frowns. “No.”

Law nods. “We really should get you out of this heat, though. Can we carry you?”

Ace snorts. Both Sabo and Law turn to look at him, and he waves them off.

“Yeah, okay,” Sabo consents. 

Law stands and unlocks his car, the noise making Sabo glance around, let out a long hum. Him and Ace share a long look. “Mine is closer.”

“Then go move mine,” Ace argues, digging out his own set of keys. 

“The AC is already on.” Law holds up fingers, counting them off. “The water bottle. It’s higher up, so it’ll be easier to get him in.” He pauses. “If we go to my place, there won’t be any stairs-”

 _“Law,”_ Ace stresses.

“Yours?” Sabo murmurs. “Why?”

“So I can monitor you for a bit.”

Sabo frowns. “But . . I don’t think this is physical.”

“It can’t all be psychotic,” Law says softly. “And it would make me feel more at ease for you to be close, if something did happen.”

“He just needs to sleep it off,” Ace insists. 

“‘He’ is right here,” Sabo mutters. “Fine. Let’s just go. It won’t hurt to stay a few hours.”

Ace purses his lips but doesn’t argue. “How are we lifting him?” he asks Law.

Law turns to Sabo. “Can you bend your legs?” He scoots them up a little bit. “Close enough.” He nods to Ace. “Move on his other side. I got him.” He places a hand on Sabo’s back to hold him as Ace slides around. “Sabo, how’s your grip strength?”

Sabo tries to clench one hand. “Not very good.”

“Okay. Put your arm around his back, right here. I’ll move mine lower. Do the same thing here, above his knees.” Law nods. “Sabo, we’re moving now, okay?”

“Sounds good,” Sabo mutters, voice still slow.

Standing is a slow process, but they manage without any struggle. Ace is glad Law’s car is closer, because Sabo is _heavy,_ even between the two of them.

“Aw man,” he grumbles. 

“What?” Law asks.

“Uhh, it’s nothing.” 

“He said he wouldn’t do it deadweight,” Sabo supplies. His eyes are slipping shut again. Law is confused, but Ace’s face is bright red, so he’s going to let this one go, internally blaming it on the nonsensical mumblings of a half-conscious man.

Law has Ace climb into the back and help move Sabo into a seat, buckling him up. His eyes are barely open, and he’s still breathing through his mouth. He can’t hardly keep his hands in his lap. 

“You want the water now or later?” Law asks.

Sabo mashes his lips together to hum. “Uhh, now?” He tries to shrug. “Feels nice.”

“The air? Good.” He nods to the console and Ace reaches over it to grab the unopened bottle from the cup holder. Law closes the back door and moves around to the driver side, sliding into his seat. Ace leans forward to put the water back and Law keeps him there with a hand on his arm. 

“Lami can drive you here later for your car. Do you need anything out of it?”

Ace shakes his head. “I-”

“Can I sleep?” Sabo asks.

“Yeah, go for it. I’ll wake you when we get there.” Law waits for Sabo to nod, eyes slipping shut, before giving Ace his attention.

“I’m good.” Ace glances over at Sabo, purses his lips. “I’ll just sit back here.”

“Okay.” Law pulls the car out of park and moves them onto the road. He looks at Sabo every time he checks his rearview mirror, making sure he wasn’t jostling him around too much. 

They reach the house okay and Law slides out to go open the door. Ace moves his thumb over Sabo’s cheek until his eyes blearily open, deep blue staring at him without any actual awareness.

“Sabo,” Ace tries. “We’re here.” Law opens the door and Ace unlatches the seatbelt. Sabo sniffs and his eyes fall shut again. 

Law shakes his head when Ace turns to ask. “You ready? We can lift him from the seat, just be careful stepping out.”

Somehow getting Sabo out is easier than getting him in. The problems don’t start until the car door shuts, jerking Sabo from his sleep.

“Whe-?” Sabo lets out a distressed sigh, turning his head this way and that. 

“You’re okay, Sabo,” Ace murmurs.

“Okay,” Sabo parrots. His eyes slide shut. They make it a few steps through the garage before they shoot open again, a startling amount of alarm in their depths. “W-Wait,” he gasps. “Wait wait wait _wait wait wait waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwait-”_ His words grow quieter and more rapid, and he starts rocking, lifting his hands to pry at his fingers. 

Ace and Law stop, unable to continue walking. “Sabo, hey-” Ace tries, but Law cuts him off, voice firm.

“Sabo, this is Law and Ace. We’re moving you inside. You need to calm down or we could drop you.”

Sabo blinks rapidly, giving up on pushing. His mouth settles to form wordless, soundless shapes, flapping open almost like a fish. What was maybe a hint of awareness fades entirely from his eyes, and his whole body relaxes. Law grits his teeth at the extra weight.

They make it through the door and settle Sabo on the couch. He might be asleep again. Law pries the rolled tissue from his nose and throws it in the trash. He wants to do a salt-water rinse, but he’s not going to risk it now. Instead he washes his hands and comes back to pull Ace aside, Sabo always within view. 

“How long has it been since his last psychotic break?” Law murmurs. “Three weeks?”

“Oh, no.” Ace shakes his head, and suddenly he looks very worn, and very tired. “Two weeks ago, right before his psych appointment.”

“He’s had _more than one?”_ Law stresses, voice raising in incredulity. 

“That I can tell.” Ace shrugs. “Everything else has been smaller.”

“Ace,” Sabo whimpers.

Law grabs at his arm before he can walk away. “Let him sleep.”

Ace grows annoyed, glancing from Sabo to Law. “But he’s-”

“He’s asleep, Ace.” Law turns him around, but doesn’t release him. Sabo’s eyes are closed, and his breathing is mostly even, if extremely slow. 

Ace can see this, but a part of him also _knows_ Sabo called out to him. “If he’s having a bad dream,” he starts, taking a step forward.

Law grabs his arm tight and the next moment he’s being pulled into the kitchen, door swinging shut. The motion lights trigger as Law slams Ace into the bar, holding him there. “If he’s dreaming _at all,_ you need to let him.” Law releases him only to stab a finger to his chest, growing even more furious. “You don’t _understand,_ Ace. He needs to rest, especially if he’s been regressing like this. What you’re doing is _insane_ and you don’t even realize it. Sabo is the _same age as you._ He’s not in high school anymore, and you need to stop treating him like he is. He’s an adult that can take care of himself without you there to hold his hand.” He lets out a vicious sigh, cards a hand through his messy hair. “Please tell me any of this is making sense.”

“No,” Ace scoffs. “It doesn’t. What’s your problem? What’s wrong with me taking care of him?”

“There’s a difference between helping him and then coddling him like he’s a _child,”_ Law counters. “That’s probably the main reason his recovery progress has been so slow.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. You don’t even know what he’s going through-”

“He had an episode _in my house._ And you said he had another one a week later? That’s not normal, Ace!”

“What am I supposed to do, then?!” Ace shouts. “Just let him suffer? You think he’ll get any better with me backing off? Because _I_ think I’m the only thing holding him together right now. And what about you? If you have all the answers, then tell me what’s going on!”

“You want my opinion? Fine.” Law’s voice is hard. “It really seems like Sabo is sacrificing his recovery in order to make _you_ happy.”

Ace blinks, startled, and any retort he’d prepared dries up in his throat, leaving his mouth hanging open. Law continues.

“He never wants to talk about any of it, right? It would be so much easier if it wasn’t an issue, because then it wouldn’t be something _you_ had to concern yourself with. If it’s a distraction or if it’s something Sabo’s deemed ‘not important enough’, then he’ll do his best to leave you out of it. But pretending it’s not there, or that it’ll magically solve itself, isn’t a real solution. He can’t get better unless he acknowledges it, and begins to address it on his own. He needs to _talk_ about it, Ace. He can’t keep bottling it all up just to keep _you_ entertained.”

“It’s not-” Ace hesitates, thinking through his words better. “It’s not like that. Between us. I haven’t even brought it up. I wanted him to get better, to readjust a little more, before even trying something like that again.”

“My point still stands. Sabo’s always been closed off, and he’s always done his best to not cause trouble for anyone. But that’s not going to help him here. And you’re _enabling_ it, even if you don’t realize. You’re falling back into all these bad habits that create complete reliance in each other and view everyone else as outsiders. It wasn’t healthy then and it’s not healthy _now_ either. He shouldn’t be holding himself back just to appease you. Really, he needs to figure this shit out before he deals with you at all.”

“What does _that_ mean? You think you know what’s best, all of a sudden? Newsflash, Trafalgar: You don’t love him like I do.”

“You’re right, I don’t. But I do care about him, and I do know he’s not going to get any better being around you when you’re like this.”

Ace’s blood runs cold. “What are you saying?”

Law crosses his arms. “I want Sabo to stay here. Not forever, just for a little while. I want you to live without him again, and I want him to know a life here apart from you. Me and Lami are perfectly capable of looking after him _without_ resorting to treating him like a child.”

“So you’re just _taking him away from me?!_ And what makes you think he’ll want to stay here?”

“He doesn’t even know where he is, Ace,” Law states blandly. “If you would open your eyes you would see that. A change in scenery would be nice, too. The entire time he’s been back he’s been with you again. He doesn’t _know_ anything else. So just.” Law presses a palm to his temple. “Give it a chance. He’ll stay here until his episode is over. I’m barring you from seeing him until then. When he regains complete awareness, and he chooses to allow it, you can visit. I won’t force him to stay here when he has the ability to choose, but I am going to strongly suggest he stay for at least two weeks.”

Ace’s eyes widen in despair. “That’s so long.”

“Five years was longer. You survived that.”

“Hey, why is Sabo on the-” Lami swings the door open but stops just inside, looking from Ace to Law to Ace again. “What’s going on?”

“Ace was just leaving,” Law tells her, eyes never leaving his. “He left his car in the park. Will you take him to get it? He’ll be back later with Sabo’s things.”

Lami glances between the two of them again. “Yeah, sure.” She digs out her car keys from her outfit, then swings the door open again. “I’ll be outside.”

“I despise you right now.” Ace snarls.

“You’ll thank me later.” Law crosses his arms. “I’m doing what’s best for you. For _both_ of you. Now get out of my house.”

-

Sabo blinks open his eyes to bright light and a bone-tired weariness that leaves him unable to question anything that had happened in the past ten hours. He must make some sort of noise, because Lami moves into his line of sight, crouching over him. His vision is still a little hazy, but he can recognize her enough to say her name to confirm. She nods back.

“How you feeling?” she asks, and Sabo can’t quite read the worry in her expression.

He pulls a face in lieu of a reply and she nods again.

“You should take your medicine. I have it right here.”

Sabo sighs. “I don’t feel like eating.”

“You’re still talking slow,” Lami notes, “so I don’t think you should be chewing anything. How about a milkshake? I bought some chocolate the other day.”

Oh. He didn’t even notice, but now that she’s said something, he can feel how lethargic he is. “That’s fine,” he mutters. His eyes move past her and begin to register the environment, and her words come back to him. “This is your house.”

“Law and Ace brought you here.” Lami moves to her feet. “Well, we can talk about that later. Give me a minute. I’ll be back.”

Law and Ace. Oh. That was right. Sabo carefully lifts one hand to his nose, feeling around and under, and sighs when he can’t find any blood. That was one worry to set aside, at least. He drops his arm and thinks about shifting up, but decides against it. He didn’t want to risk pitching over, or doing something stupid. 

It’s very quiet. He wonders how late it is. How long he’d been here.

Lami comes back in from the kitchen before he can continue down that train of thought. She pulls a low coffee table closer and sits down on the edge, resting a glass beside her. “You should sit up some. Do you-?”

“No.” Sabo slowly shakes his head at her offer and is relieved when the motion doesn’t incite anything in him. He uses both arms to prop himself up, moving back to lean against the armrest, then deciding against it and pushing his side more against the back of the couch, so he’s more in the corner with added support. He reaches up with both hands and Lami carefully holds out the glass. There’s a straw, which he appreciates, because it means he can hold the glass more against his chest, one hand on the side and one holding the bottom. Lami watches him carefully, until he’s sucked half of it down, and moves the glass to rest between his legs, held steady there.

“Okay, I’m ready,” he tells her, blinking heavily, even though he didn’t really feel tired. Not mentally, at least. She opens both pill bottles -and huh, that was weird, why were they here?- and takes out the appropriate amount. Sabo takes both in his left hand, in the center of his palm. His grip strength is still being difficult, though, and the attempt at sliding the pills into his fingers ends with them flying away, landing somewhere in the room his eyes can’t follow, while he’s adjusting his hand to force his fingers apart, frowning down at them.

“Shit,” he mutters. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Lami’s already moving to retrieve them, and she’s sitting down again soon.

“Will you just-” Sabo cuts himself off and opens his mouth, and Lami nods, lifting her hand.

Sabo swallows the pills along with the rest of the shake, and Lami takes the glass from his hands to push it further back on the table. “Thank you,” he tells her.

“Yeah, it’s nothing.” Lami bites her lip and leans forward to help Sabo down, so he must’ve been doing something he was unaware of. Not all the way down again, just until his shoulders are propped on the armrest, and his head is sagged against the cushion. “Um. Law told me a little about what happened. Do you remember anything?”

Sabo squints in thought. “I hit a home run, I think, and then passed out.” He breathes out a laugh, lips curling up in flippant amusement. “Not a great way to do it, huh?”

Lami shrugs. “I mean. I’ve seen you do worse, so.”

Yeah, she has. Sabo looks over at her. Lami had always been his friend. And, he thinks, considering this, that it was really a shame that this was only the third time he’d seen her since coming back home. His eyes widen, ending that thought for a new one. “I’m in your house.”

“It surprised me too,” she says wryly. “I got home and you were on the couch, and Law and Ace were-” She cuts herself off, light dying from her eyes just a little. It takes her a moment to speak again. “You haven’t been here for long. We wanted you to stay the night, actually.”

Sabo does his best to purse his lips. “That sounds like a bother. For you.”

“You’d actually be doing us a favor,” Lami admits. “If you stay where we can keep an eye on you.”

Sabo’s eyes narrow in thought but he doesn’t have the mental power at the moment to detect if that sounded true or false. “Fine,” he mumbles, and Lami sags in relief. “Is Ace-”

“Ace is okay with it,” Lami says quickly. “He left already, but he brought some of your things.”

Sabo frowns. That wasn’t his question, but he wasn’t sure what he was trying to ask, now. “What’s the plan?”

“I’m off tomorrow, and Law will be home when I leave Monday. We’re not confining you anywhere, but I’m worried about you moving around, and the house is still unfamiliar. One of us will be here no matter what just to make sure you’re okay.”

“Why am I . .” Sabo frowns again.

“Law says it should fade, with time.” Lami shrugs. “If it doesn’t we can take you somewhere.”

Sabo hums. “Okay.” 

“Hey-” Lami waits until Sabo is looking at her. “Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer.”

“Sure.”

She hesitates, but Sabo is patient, recognizing it must be something serious. “Why . . .” She shakes her head. “Did you have fun, these past five years?”

Sabo takes a moment to consider changing his gut answer, but it wouldn’t make it any less true. “Not really.”

“What did you want to do?” she asks. She meant what would he have done instead, but Sabo takes it the wrong way, replacing _what_ with the earlier _why._

“Run away.”

Lami’s eyes soften, and then close, as she breathes out. Sabo looks away.

Before she can say anything to reassure him, he announces that he’s tired, and turns his face to the cushions. Lami leaves him to sleep, dimming the lights on her way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these next two chapters flow into each other but i think splitting it like this will even out the word count for both. ill update w ch11 sometime before the year ends
> 
> (if any of you check out my tumblr i change my url every december so [heres](http://silvertheredhairedstranger.tumblr.com) a new link !!)


	11. easy come easy go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title is a lie but i am v tired rn so. take it.
> 
> once again i dont know my limits and my wrist is bothering me so this is definitely the last update of the year. if you want more sa stuff ive thrown things up on my [tumblr](http://silvertheredhairedstranger.tumblr.com) recently. thats all i have to offer. hope everyone has a good rest of the year.

“The same, I guess,” is Sabo’s answer to Lami in the morning, when she sits close and asks how he was feeling. 

“You should take your medicine,” she says quietly, using her hand to twist one bottle against the glass of the tabletop. “What do you want to eat?” she asks, when Sabo doesn’t refuse.

Sabo shrugs. He’s suddenly reminded that Lami was the one who taught Ace to cook, so her offer extended to her making him something. “Whatever you want.”

“Great. What I want is for you to tell me what you want.”

Sabo snorts. Lami doesn’t look as amused, and he immediately recognizes that he wasn’t going to win this one. “Uhhh, oatmeal, then.”

She looks a little surprised at this. “Do you want it bland?”

“Just a little.”

“Yeah, okay.” She stands up, and her braid flops fully over her shoulder. “Do you want to wait here, or.”

Sabo thinks on it. “I can. If you want me to move I can try that.”

“I’m not forcing you to do anything.”

“Okay?” Sabo frowns. “Uh, sure, let’s see.” He slowly moves to sit himself up, blinks the stars crowding the edge of his vision, and curls his legs. 

Lami lets go of the medicine bottle to steady Sabo’s shoulders. She lets him move both legs to the floor, but his arms are already straining from the effort. “Can you stand?” she murmurs.

“Maybe,” Sabo mutters. She releases him to hold her hands out, and Sabo takes them, letting her pull him up. He’s not dizzy, which is good. He feels . . not normal, but not bad, either. He’s not swaying, that he knows of. His legs feel a little like lead, but he moves a step forward when Lami moves back toward the kitchen, and another, and another. She lets go of his hands to push the door open and he moves just fine through them, if a little slowly. He pulls back a seat at the bar by himself, and his hands are fine, even if they can’t close completely around the back of the chair. Lami makes sure he’s seated before moving to take things out of the fridge and turning on the stove. She puts everything on the counter in front of Sabo so she can face him while she works. Sabo rests both arms on the bar, leaning into them.

“How far are you with school?” Sabo asks, to have something to fill the air. His voice is still low, and he’s talking slower, but he doesn’t know how to correct any of it. Lami’s pitch matches his, and it has all morning, enough that Sabo doubts he would hear her from across the room, but for their distance now, it was good.

“I’m in residency. I finished medical school early. Last year.”

“Oh.” Sabo hadn’t known that. The last he knew, she was going into a pre-med program without deciding on a specialty. 

“Law and I bought this house a few years back with the last of our inheritance.” Lami moves down the counter to be in front of the stove, and Sabo tilts to face her again. “We really couldn’t afford it back then, but he makes enough now that it doesn’t matter.”

“It’s nice,” Sabo notes, glancing around. There are a few windows, and the sunlight plays with his eyes, so he doesn’t look as much as he wanted. 

“Yeah, it is.” Lami sets a bowl down in front of him and a spoon on the counter. Sabo picks it up as she puts the rest of the oatmeal into her own bowl. His hands are still being weird, and he has to spread his fingers across the length of the utensil to be able to hold it. Lami frowns when she catches sight of this.

“Do you think a muscle relaxer would help?”

“I think the problem is I’m too relaxed.” Sabo sighs. “I hope it’s not a nerve thing.”

“Maybe you’re locked up on purpose.”

Lami moves to sit beside him and Sabo scrunches his face up. “What do you mean?”

“You could be subconsciously not allowing your hands to close all the way.” She nods to his free hand. “Does it hurt to flex?”

Sabo moves his fingers in. “No, I guess not.”

Lami shrugs. “It’s just a thought.”

It’s a thought Sabo dwells on, as he finishes the meal and swallows his pills. Theoretically, the anti-tremor meds should be working in his favor on this, and yet they hadn’t done anything. Well, he’d only taken one since. Maybe the second dose would do something, if it did end up being a physical problem.

“Can I shower? I smell like sweat,” Sabo mumbles.

Lami hides her laugh with a hand in front of her mouth. “I was wondering when you would ask. It’s upstairs. Think you can make it?”

“Probably. I can try.”

“That sounds good.” She helps him up from the couch again, and somehow they make it up the stairs. “Try not to think about your hands,” she mentions, as she pulls out a towel for him and throws it on the rack. “And try not to get frustrated if you drop stuff. I’ll set you a change of clothes on the counter.”

Sabo nods, and then she’s leaving, pulling the door shut. He goes through a process to take his clothes off, and he huffs when he’s done, leaving them in a pile on the floor. Lami comes in when he’s under the warm spray, because the door opens back up for a moment. He sighs as the soap slips from his hands, bending over to retrieve it for the nth time. He borrows some of Lami’s coconut-scented conditioner to work through his hair. The door opens again and he moves his head to peer out.

No. The door is closed. Sabo frowns and maneuvers his hair under the water, drowning his ears for the moment.

He feels good when he leaves, but he hates how slow his movements still are. He doesn’t feel like going back down the stairs, so he opts to move down the hall instead, see what all was there. The first door to his right is open, light spilling into the hall, and he stops in front of it to see Lami looking up from her laptop.

“Oh, you’re done?” She pulls headphones from her ears and moves around the bed. “This is my room. You want a tour? Wanna look at it alone?”

“If you’re not busy.” Sabo glances to the computer.

Lami shakes her head. “No, I’m not. Come on, I’ll show you around.”

Sabo doesn’t remember Law being a very dedicated decorator, so he chalks up all the interior design to Lami. It was nice. It’s a nice house. It suited the pair well.

Sabo and Lami are on the floor in her room when Law comes home with takeout for three. He’s walking better now, able to make it down the stairs by himself. Law sets everything up in the main room, sitting by the low table, and Lami and Sabo sit across from him on the couch. It’s quiet for the most part. Lami asks Law how his day was, and he mutters something Sabo doesn’t catch that has her choking on her rice. 

It reminds him a little of old times, when Law came home with food from the restaurant his friend worked at and ushered him and Lami away from whatever school assignment they were focused on to eat with him. Sometimes Ace would be there, and-

Oh. That was right.

Law turns to him as he sets his food aside to reach for his medicine bottles. “You still feel drowsy?”

“Not really,” Sabo answers. “My movements won’t reflect that, but I’m not tired or anything.”

Law bobs his head. “I am,” he announces, leaning back, hands spread on the floor behind him. “I’m going to bed. I’ll be here most of the day tomorrow, so if you need anything, just come get me.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Sabo says.

“Goodnight,” Lami calls, as Law stands and moves from the room. He waves back at her.

Lami makes sure he’s okay on the couch before retiring herself, assuring him she would easily be gone before the sun was out. Sabo waits until the house is quiet and then digs through the bag near the foot of the couch until he finds his phone.

Ace answers on the first ring.  _ “Sabo? Are you okay? Do I need to come get you?” _

Sabo sits in silence for a moment, processing the rapid-fire questions. “No,” he replies quietly. “I’m okay. You have school tomorrow, right? You should prioritize that instead.”

_ “I can skip if I need to-” _ Ace starts, and Sabo cuts him off.

“You don’t need to do that. Things are fine, Ace. You don’t need to put me before school.”

Ace is quiet for so long Sabo worries he’s hung up. He pulls back to check and his eyes land on the low battery in the corner. Ace’s voice comes through the speaker again.

_ “Maybe Law was right,” _ he mutters. Before Sabo can ask what he was right about, Ace is moving on.  _ “Call me when you’re ready to come home.” _

“Oka-” The dialtone is loud in Sabo’s ears, and he frowns at having been cut off.

He sighs, and puts his phone on the table, and decides the best thing to do was sleep off the whole conversation.

-

Koala calls him early the next day, while Sabo is still trying to figure things out.

_ “Hey. How is everything?” _

“Weird,” Sabo admits. “I’m at a friend’s place right now.”

_ “You’re talking kinda slow. That part of the ‘weird’?” _

“Unfortunately.”

_ “Okay. I’ll call again some other time, alright? Hope things settle soon.” _

“Yeah, thanks.” Sabo sets the phone facedown on the counter and moves to open the fridge. He pours himself a glass of juice and reaches back in for a container of cut fruit while he takes a sip. 

Law wanders in while he’s grabbing a fork. His hair sticks up in an impressive bedhead that Sabo doesn’t bother to hide a snort at. Law glares at him, but his gaze settles as he points.

“Your hands are better, huh?”

Sabo looks down to where he’s holding the fork steady. “Guess they are,” he mumbles. “I haven’t noticed.”

He thinks back on Lami’s words from the other day. Maybe that’s why they were good, because he  _ hadn’t _ been obsessing over them. He’d been using them all morning, and it was only when Law said something that he stopped to think about it.

That, or the Benztropine had finally kicked in. He was more inclined to believe the latter.

Law holds up a cord and nods to Sabo’s phone. “There wasn’t a charger in your bag, so I grabbed one of Lami’s. Here.” He passes it over and Sabo sets the fruit bowl down to take it. 

“Thanks.” He plugs it into the outlet on the counter and moves his phone to the bar along with the juice and fruit. Law starts the coffeemaker in the corner as he connects the phone, watching it buzz and then power back on.

Law distracts him from digging through the container for grapes by settling down in the chair to his left. The smell of his fresh coffee has Sabo’s nose wrinkling. It’s enough of a distraction for Law to pull the fruit to rest between them and pluck out a piece of melon. 

“How’s your head?” he asks, after a long draw of coffee that makes Sabo turn away, picking up his juice.

“Fine,” he mumbles. “I don’t- Was my head ever bad?”

“Maybe not, but your symptoms suggested it.” Law shrugs. “I thought you had a stroke, but Ace said your nosebleed wasn’t uncommon, so then I didn’t know what to think.”

“Oh.” Sabo pops a cube of kiwi into his mouth and talks around it. “Yeah, uh, I think Lami’s seen a few of them. Sorry for all the trouble, by the way.”

“No trouble. Nothing to be sorry for.” Law turns his head to look at him, and Sabo avoids the urge to turn away. “You have any idea what caused it?”

_ It _ being such a violent reaction to hitting the ball. Sabo chews on his lip, because yeah, he had a pretty good idea, but it was one thing to dwell on it and another to admit it aloud to another person.

But Law was only here to help. Law had already been helping. There was . . no harm in saying it, right?

Law takes another sip of coffee and leaves Sabo to his thoughts. He’s not putting any pressure on his answer, thankfully, but he’s also not giving him a chance to shy away, either. It’s not like with Ace, where he’ll ask and then backtrack, and leave Sabo the choice. Those golden eyes aren’t leaving his.

Sabo digs out another piece of fruit but leaves it hanging on his fork. “I think it was the force,” he says softly, and he’s looking at the countertop as he does. “I felt it the first time you pitched. Having something come straight at me was . . too much. The force of hitting the ball was so jarring, and the noise that came with it was . .” He shakes his head, drops his fork into the bowl. One hand moves to press against his forehead. “Guess I couldn’t handle it, so I shut down. The nosebleed is probably unrelated. Coincidental. It was really dry out yesterday.”

Law thinks on this for a minute, but he’s not a shrink, and he doesn’t know what to say. He decides to leave it to rest, picking up his mug to drain the rest of the coffee.

Sabo picks up his fork again and bites into the pineapple chunk. The sourness has his lips puckering.

“So, I was thinking you might stay longer,” Law brings up in a more casual tone, rising to refill his mug. “Maybe another week or so. It’s-”

“Why?”

Ah, well, Law would be lying if he said the question wasn’t one he expected. He wished he had an excuse to fall back on, like a pet that needed watching, or needing someone to help around the house, but he doesn’t. All he has is the cold hard truth, as much as it pained him to say again. This wasn’t like with Ace, where he was talking him out of what he thought was a bad decision. Sabo hadn’t done anything wrong. The only thing Sabo had  _ ever _ done was try and do the right thing.

“If I’m better-” Sabo hesitates, looks down.  _ “Mostly _ better,” he corrects. “Then you don’t need to keep watching me.”

“That’s, uh, that’s not the point.” Law sighs and leans back against the counter by the coffeemaker as Sabo looks up at him. “This stay would be more . . for your extended benefit.”

Sabo’s eyes narrow. “Just spit it out.”

“Fine. I think you and Ace need some distance.”

Sabo’s reaction is not one Law expected. At all. His face goes through a mix of emotions, settles on something close to resignation, and draws to a shuttered close as he breathes out a sigh, lifts his hands to cover his eyes. 

“But I already tried that,” he mutters, just loud enough for Law to hear. His brow furrows in confusion, and then the meaning clicks, and his eyes widen.

“That’s not what I-” he starts, but Sabo interjects, and he doesn’t have the heart to go on, to stop the blond from saying what he’s probably needed to say aloud for some time.

“I left and tried to move on but I just  _ couldn’t,  _ Law, I never could.” His voice hitches, and his fingers curl. “And I know it’s so selfish of me, but I want him around, and I want him to take care of me, just like he used to. I know I get in the way, and that it’s a lot to ask, but he looks at me like he doesn’t mind, and it just makes me  _ feel things _ and I-” Sabo cuts off with a shaky inhale. His hands move to curl around his nose, revealing his red eyes, and he inhales again, trying to recover. His eyes open at half-mast to meet Law’s. “Staying here won’t do anything. Thanks, but. It’s not going to help like you want it to.”

Law presses a hand to his hair and takes a long drag of coffee, mostly to give himself time to think. He had addressed one topic only for a completely separate one blow up in his face like a landmine. This really would be more Lami’s area to deal with. She was Sabo’s friend first. Law was just her older brother that grew a fondness for the kid. He didn’t know the ins and outs of Sabo like she did.

But. Law was the one here now. And Sabo was crying in his kitchen. And it was sorta his fault.

“Okay,” he says, finally, just to say something to break up all the negatives in the air. “I-” He pauses, frowns, because he didn’t quite  _ get it, _ so he didn’t feel like saying it. “I’m not going to force you to do anything,” he says instead, a reiteration of what he told Ace before. “What about today? What do you want?”

Sabo thinks on this for long enough to decide he’s no longer hungry, pushing the fruit away. “I’ll stay. At least until Lami gets back. I’m gonna take a shower, then I’ll probably read one of her books.”

“I’ll be around if you need anything,” Law assures him. Sabo relaxes more now that he knows the earlier conversation is behind them, dropping his shoulders. “We can figure out lunch later.”

Sabo leans up against the bar, tipping his head. “Not gonna cook anything, Trafalgar?”

Law snorts. “You know that’s a useless effort.”

“I thought I did, but Ace learned, so I figured there’d be hope for you, too.”

“Unfortunately I’m the same as ever.” Law shrugs off Sabo’s questioning gaze. “If you’re expecting me to have changed, well, I haven’t.”

“That’s almost a relief,” Sabo mutters. He jumps up before Law can fully process it, grabbing his cup from the counter. “I’m gonna take my medicine,” he announces. 

By the time Law leaves the kitchen, he can hear the water running upstairs.

-

Considering he hadn’t seen Karasu since the day he got back, Sabo thinks it very odd that he would see the other  _ now, _ of all times.

But he does. At the end of the hall. Half-hidden by shadows cast from sunlight at the front of the house. 

Sabo stares, unblinking, and thinks not for the first time that he was really living a nightmare, for all this to be happening. He thinks about what he would do to wake up, and isn’t surprised to find the list very short. 

Unfortunately, Sabo is very alone, which is probably why Karasu appears now, right before he can return to be a closer distance to Law. Sabo swallows heavy, and Karasu tilts his head like a bird, just like he used to. Neither of them move. One of them speaks.

“Sabo.” Karasu’s voice is gruff. Sabo bites down on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, and his heart skips a couple beats, but he doesn’t look away. He’s waiting for the moment Karasu steps forward, so he can step back, so he can maintain the distance. He can’t do anything to distract himself, and unfortunately, that means not putting his hands over his ears to block out the noise.

Not that that would help. He’s tried before.

“I’ve been on you about this mission before. When are you going to take it?”

Sabo doesn’t answer for long enough that Karasu breathes out a sigh. He doesn’t move from the shadows. Sabo waits.

At least with Lindbergh, all the times Sabo had seen him, he had been concerned for the blond. He had had Sabo’s wellbeing at heart. Not like this. Not like Karasu, who was keen on antagonizing him, and Sabo can’t break from the logic that maybe the Karasu he’d known would have done the same, if given the chance, because it’s the same mannerism and vocals and everything that made it more  _ real. _

That made it seem like it was actually happening.

“You’re playing yourself if you think anything is going to change,” Karasu continues. “At least if you take the mission, you might have a chance at moving on.”

Sabo sees red, for one moment. “I’m not going to-” he spits out, and then he stops, slamming his jaw shut, and casts one frantic glance behind him, down the hall, listening for any movement to suggest Law had heard the outburst.

Karasu takes one step forward in Sabo’s moment of distraction that has him scrambling several paces back, eyes back on his former friend, wide and wild and wavering, the blue a deep enough color that there’s almost no contrast with his blown pupils. 

“Wait, don’t-” Sabo stammers, holding a hand up. He bites down but his teeth start chattering, so he bites into his tongue instead. His heart is racing. Karasu doesn’t move again.

“Sabo?”

Sabo bites down hard enough on his tongue to grunt in a mix of surprise and pain, and releases the tension there as he turns his head back. Law is halfway in the hall, and halfway on the landing that overlooks the front of the house. He has one arm on the wall, and he’s looking at Sabo like he was worried but didn’t quite know what to do about it.

Sabo closes his eyes and forces himself to breathe out. Right. This wasn’t real. It was all in his head. It was always all in his head.

He glances back at Karasu and suddenly has a hard time convincing himself of this. He turns away again and looks down at the carpet instead of Law, drawing his arms up around his torso. He bites down on his lip to keep himself steady, feeling a lump form in his throat.

“I-” He breaks off when his voice cracks, takes a breath, tries again. “I want Ace.”

Law’s hand comes away from the wall. He moves towards Sabo, looking over the blond’s head to the far wall. There wasn’t even a door there. It was just dust-colored plaster hardly visible in the low light. He lets his hand land on Sabo’s shoulder, frowning at the flinch he’s met with.

“There’s no one there, Sabo.”

Law says the words and the immediate reaction he’s met with reminds him of pressing the wrong option in a video game and being instantly greeted with the ramifications. He says the words and then looks to backtrack them immediately with his expression, but Sabo is already glaring up at him, breath held, shoulders so tense Law is both surprised he hasn’t knocked his hand off and confused on why he hasn’t let go instead. 

_ “I know, _ Trafalgar,” Sabo bites out. “I  _ watched them die. _ I know they’re not real.”

His voice falters at the end, and his glare softens as sorrow takes the place of anger, and Law nods and tightens his grip and decides to think through what he’d just been told better at another time. For now, he settles his other hand on Sabo’s head and draws him closer. 

“How about we go to my room?” He tries to keep his voice light. “It’s empty,” he says, instead of what he’d said earlier, “and we can lock the door.”

Sabo bobs his head instead of verbally replying, but Law can understand that. Carefully, he moves until he can guide Sabo forward, back still to the hall, and leads him onto the strip overlooking the house, and down the first hallway by the stairs, and past Lami’s open room, all the way up to his own, door still ajar how he’d left it. He moves Sabo in and closes the door right behind them and slides the lock shut, and plants Sabo on the plush carpet on the other side, near the window he shutters and the closet door he pushes closed with his foot.

Lami finds them like that when she gets home. Law is between Sabo and the door, and they’re talking in normal voices, though there’s not any humor in the conversation. Sabo seems tired, but he nods to her as she walks in, and Law turns with a pleading look in his eyes, and Lami finds herself on the floor with them not long after.

They talk about nothing, for the most part. Nothing that matters. But Lami is sensing that was the point of it all, the more it continues. She leans back against the bed as Law slides across, moving around the room to get dressed for work. He leaves with a little wave before too long, and Lami stretches out her legs at a lull in the conversation, taking the moment to examine Sabo.

She wanted to ask how he was, but something put her on edge at the thought. Whatever the answer may be, the idea of asking in the first place didn’t seem very good, so she doesn’t. She doesn’t address it at all.

“I should change,” she mumbles, picking at her shirt.

“Yeah.” Sabo picks himself up and holds out a hand to hoist her up too. “I’ll be downstairs.”

He seems nervous at the prospect of going down, but he also seems too worn out to be bothered by it. Lami decides to let it be, confident he would come get her if something happened.

There’s no one waiting for Sabo. He resists the sigh of relief and grabs his phone from the kitchen instead, pulling it off the charger. He glances at the time and moves out of his conversation with Ace to call him instead. He picks up near-immediately.

_ “Sabo? You okay?” _

Sabo’s eyes close and he closes his mouth and breathes out his nose instead. He doesn’t want to answer, so he doesn’t, letting silence hang in the air for a few moments.  _ Too long, _ he thinks, and opens his mouth just before Ace can say anything else.

“Will you come get me?”

_ “Yeah. I’ll leave right now.” _ There’s scuffling in the background.  _ “I’ll be there soon.” _

This was the part where Ace hangs up, and Sabo tenses, bracing for the dial tone. It’s quiet for one, two, three seconds before Ace’s voice comes through the speaker again.

_ “You’re talking better,” _ he notes.

“I feel better,” Sabo admits. He moves around the kitchen, to the door closer to the front of the house, doing his best to relax again.

He thinks he hears a door shut on the other end of the phone. “You shouldn’t be on the phone while you drive,” Sabo chides.

_ “You didn’t seem ready to stop talking,” _ Ace counters, but his tone is more subdued. Sabo stops just outside the kitchen, face growing downcast at having been caught. 

“It’s okay,” he says is a low voice. “I promise.”

There’s a couple seconds of silence before Ace speaks up again.  _ “Hey, do you remember the first time you were over at my house? Your first time in my old room?” _

Sabo squints at the hardwood flooring as he tries to catch the meaning. “Uh, I guess? The important parts, at least.” There was no way he’d have perfect recall -that happened  _ years _ ago. “What’s your point?”

_ “You should try and remember the rest.” _ Ace hums.  _ “I’ll be there soon,” _ he repeats, and then Sabo is pulling away after he hangs up.

He furrows his brows, still not getting the point. Lami chooses that moment to come down the stairs, and his distraction is suddenly presented with another distraction. He drops the topic in favor of answering her questioning look.

“Ace is coming.” 

Lami stops short at the base of the stairs, blinking in surprise. “Oh, okay. Is that who you were talking to?”

Sabo pales at the question, suddenly wondering if Law had told her anything. “Yeah.” He raises his phone. “On- On this.”

Lami tilts her head and Sabo mentally facepalms, realizing that probably hadn’t been the conclusion she had drawn after all. “Right, yeah.” Her eyes narrow. “Wait, do you see Ace?”

The  _ no _ is on the tip of Sabo’s tongue, but then he remembers the other morning, and he suddenly realizes that wasn’t quite true, anymore. “It’s complicated.”

_ Oh. _ That was Ace’s point. He’d been encouraging Sabo to think on the past as a distraction. He must have caught on that Sabo was unsettled, and this was his way of trying to fix it without actually being there.

Lami, thankfully, drops the subject. “Let me grab your stuff, then,” she announces, and then she’s shuffling back up the stairs. Sabo takes a seat and steeples his hands, and decides to follow Ace’s advice and get lost in thought.

Lami comes back in and shoves things into his bag, and Sabo blinks up when one of her books follows before she seals the zipper. 

“What’s that for?”

She looks up to his gaze and smiles. “You’re not done with it, right? Just return it some other time. It’s not like I need it right now.”

“Thank you,” Sabo mumbles, and then the door opens.

Ace stops in the entryway, eyes landing on the two. “Hey. Ready?”

“Yeah.” Sabo nods as Lami hands him his bag, sliding his phone into one of the pockets.

“Your medicine is in there,” she tells him. “That should be everything, but if we forgot, just text me and I’ll bring it by.”

“Thank you,” Sabo says again, and there’s more weight behind the words this time. Lami moves closer and reaches a hand up to ruffle Sabo’s hair. It takes him a second to move out of her hold, and she’s barely holding back a laugh when he does.

“It’s different without your hair shorter, but you still have the same reaction,” she observes. 

Sabo huffs, reaching up to flatten the longer strands. “It’s only funny to you,” he mutters.

“Right, right.” She waves at Ace while Sabo walks over. “See ya. Sorry about the other day.”

Ace shrugs but offers no further comment. Sabo looks between them, trying to figure out what she meant. He opens his mouth to ask, but Ace pulls on his arm before he can, sliding the door he never shut open further. 

He doesn’t let go until they’re both outside, and it’s only to take the bag to toss over his own shoulder, and then pull Sabo into a hug.

Sabo hums, near his ear. “You seem more on edge than me.”

“I was really worried.”

Sabo gets the feeling that didn’t just apply to the drive over. “Well, I’m okay.” Ace doesn’t move to release him, so with a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Sabo reaches up to hug him back. “Really. There was a moment today, but it’s okay now.” He swallows. “I don’t wanna think about it anymore. Can we go now?”

“We can go,” Ace mumbles, finally pulling back. Not near enough, though, face oddly close. He looks tired, Sabo notes. 

He moves back before he can think anything else. Ace looks disappointed, but he doesn’t say anything. He puts Sabo’s bag into the back, and then climbs behind the wheel. Sabo doesn’t know how to feel when he discovers the car was still on. Ace really hadn’t been planning to stick around that long. Sabo recalls Lami’s apology and decides to ask.

“What happened the other day?”

Ace hums in question. “Oh, with Lami?” He’s quiet when Sabo nods, rolling down the street. It takes a while for him to answer. “She meant someone else.”

Sabo frowns as he tries to follow. “You mean . . Law?” Why would she apologize for Law? Hadn’t he helped the most?

“Sabo, really-” Ace sighs. “It’s okay. Just forget about it.”

His eyes narrow. “You didn’t act like it was okay.”

“I really don’t want to fight with you.” Ace sighs again. They roll to a stop at a red light. “Not now. Please?”

Sabo glances over at him again. He really did seem tired. His eyes weren’t opened all the way. The skin underneath was beginning to discolor. The silver sheen was now just a dull grey. Ace moves to meet his gaze for a moment, then the light changes and he looks forward again.

“Fine,” Sabo mutters, less upset now and more discontent.

It’s quiet the rest of the way home. Ace doesn’t ask how his stay was, or anything of the sort, and Sabo doesn’t bother to speak up about it. The silence is charged and restless. Sabo doesn’t relax until they’re parked again, and he can slide out the door.

Ace unlocks the apartment and glances at his phone once they’re inside. “Uh, I’ll be right back,” he mutters, abandoning his phone on the back of the couch and tightening his hold on the car keys. 

“Sure,” Sabo says offhandedly, not really paying attention. He moves around the furniture and pushes the bedroom door open, setting his bag down on the mattress. He digs his laundry out and leaves again, putting it away, but before he can go back he pauses outside the bathroom door, watching Ace’s phone buzz.

Sabo bites on his lip but moves toward it. It stops ringing as he reaches it, but starts again immediately, nearly sliding down the cushions. Sabo reaches forward to grab it, and then he’s holding it. He glances to the door and looks down again, and answers the call with a sigh, holding it up to his ear. “Hello?”

_ “Ace Portgas!” _ a loud voice screeches in his ear. Sabo jerks back, eyeing the phone with trepidation.  _ “I come in to find your stuff  _ all over _ the lab. The fuck? What the fuck! Why would you leave-” _ There’s a heavy pause, and then the voice comes back, much quieter.  _ “You’re not Ace.” _

“Uh, no.” Sabo sweatdrops. Then the door opens. He looks up and Ace moves further in, his backpack over his shoulder. 

_ “Well where is he?” _

“Who-” Ace pauses as he notices the phone Sabo has is his own. His brow furrows, but Sabo holds the phone out before he can question. Ace takes it carelessly, reads the caller ID, and freezes. It’s just for a moment, though, and then he’s talking easily into the phone, letting his bag slide down his arm. “Hey, Cornelia. What’s-it?”

_ “You!” _ She’s loud enough for Sabo to hear, as close as he is. Ace winces.  _ “Do you have any idea what I’m staring at right now?” _

“Uh, I have a guess.”

_ “It’s your shit, everywhere! You have  _ ten minutes _ to get in here and clean it all up before I start tossing everything.  _ Ten,  _ Portgas, got it?” _

It connects, then, that Ace was probably at the lab when Sabo called. He must’ve abandoned everything and left. Sabo turns away as he realizes this.

“Uh, wait-” Ace starts, but Cornelia hangs up before he can finish. He sighs and drops his arm. 

“You should probably go,” Sabo tells him, but it’s subdued as he leans against the back of the couch. 

Ace nods, bending down to pick his backpack back up. “Wanna come with?”

Sabo blinks. “I thought I wasn’t allowed in the lab.”

“Well, no.” Ace scratches his head. “I won’t be long though, so you could wait in the car. It’s, uh-” He breaks off at Sabo’s incredulous look. “I don’t wanna leave you, right now,” he admits.

“I’ll be okay.”

“That’s not-” His scratching turns to scrubbing, messing up his locks. “Look, you just came back. Sue me, but I don’t-” He groans and runs a hand down his face. “You get it, right?”

“Yeah,” Sabo mutters, curling his arms around himself. That would explain why Ace jumped up to get him, consequences be damned. “Okay. I’ll go.”

“Great!” Ace holds out his hand and slips his keys from his bag with the other. Sabo takes a step away from the couch, pauses at the cue, and blinks down at the outstretched hand. Ace doesn’t give him time ot think on it, though, reaching forward to grab Sabo’s hand and spinning his car keys on his fingers. Sabo’s face heats up and he frowns at this, but Ace is turned away, leading him out the door, so he doesn’t do anything to hide it.

They settle in the car again and Sabo forces himself to relax as Ace puts his bag in the back. His hand is still tingling. He doesn’t know  _ why, _ either. It wasn’t unusual or anything. At least, it hadn’t been back then.

Sabo turns to stare out the window as Ace starts the car. His eyes narrow at the passing scenery, and soon they’re zig-zagging through campus parking lots. “You really weren’t kidding,” he mutters.

“About what?”

Sabo blinks, zoning in enough to catch the action reflected in the glass. “Oh, uh, about school being close.”

Ace taps the clock. “That’s why Nel gave me such a short time limit.” He snorts at his own words and slows down in front of a longer building. “You want me to leave the car on?”

“No, I’m fine,” Sabo mumbles. Ace nods and pockets the keys, then reaches up to grab a lanyard wrapped around the rearview mirror. He stops before taking it, though, glancing over to Sabo.

“What?” Sabo asks. He kicks his shoes off to curl his legs against the dash. Ace hums thoughtfully and retracts his hand, using it instead to pry his sweatshirt off his shoulders, and then toss it into Sabo’s lap.

Sabo blinks down at the gift, then up at Ace, who’s opening the door now, key card in hand. “I’ll be back soon,” he promises. “My phone’s in the back if you need it!”

He hurries away and Sabo turns from looking out the window to gazing at the shirt, burying his hands in the fabric. It’s warm, and without wasting another moment Sabo pulls it down over his head. He leans back and breathes out and sits there for a minute, staring at the car’s ceiling.

“You’re too much,” he ends up muttering to the air. He brings his hands up to shield his face, breathing out again. His skin is hot under his fingertips.

-

“I was thinking I could cook something,” Ace says on the drive back home. Sabo is still curled up, knees pressed against the door, and maybe because of this Ace’s voice is more subdued. Not that he doesn’t appreciate it -he is pretty tired. The day had been long enough already.

“Yeah, sure,” Sabo mumbles. “If you want to eat in.”

“I think I’m just tired of eating out.” Ace glances over when met with silence and sighs at Sabo’s questioning look. “It’s all I’ve done the past few days,” he admits.

“Busy?”

“Not really.”

Sabo’s brow furrows. He tries again. “Have you even been home?”

Ace’s silence is telling. Sabo purses his lips and thinks on that. 

His first thought was that something had happened, but Ace would’ve needed to come home for that. Oh, did he? Lami had said it was Ace that brought over the bag with his things.

Oh. 

It wasn’t that something had happened, but that something  _ didn’t _ happen. Because Sabo didn’t come back with Ace. Ace was here alone.

Maybe he thought it would be better to be away, than to be here alone again.

“Ace-” Sabo hesitates. Ace glances at him before turning down another street. “It was just two days,” he mutters, loud enough for the other to hear.

Ace sighs. “I didn’t know how long it would be.”

Sabo remembers Law asking him to stay for longer. Maybe he had told Ace the same. Maybe that was why he was upset.

He sinks further in his seat, but the air in the car was getting harder to breathe, and they would have to talk about it eventually. Maybe it didn’t have to all be tonight. Maybe he could ease him into it. “I didn’t leave forever, y’know.”

He’s gazing out the front window, so he doesn’t see Ace’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. “Sure felt like it,” he mumbles.

Sabo doesn’t know what to say to that, so he doesn’t. Eventually he doesn’t have to, because Ace speaks up again.

“Were you ever going to come back?”

Sabo opens his mouth on impulse, but it hangs open until he closes it, biting on his lip. The fact that he did wasn’t the issue, because he’d already told Ace he’d had no choice in the matter. He’d also said . .

“I don’t know,” he says quietly. The car turns off and he startles, looking up from his lap to realize they were already back. Ace removes the keys from the ignition and settles back in his seat. 

Ace still looks tired, when Sabo glances over. He sounds tired, too, with his next words. “Was it me? Did I do something wrong?”

Sabo’s eyes widen in incredulity. He shifts in his seat. “Ace-  _ No.” _ He shakes his head, and now Ace is looking at him, and the words come easy. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t think you’re capable of it. It wasn’t you, I promise.”

“Then what  _ was _ it?” Ace asks, and his voice breaks, and Sabo has to close his eyes because he can’t stand to look into Ace’s any longer. He swallows and does his best to calm down and think, because this was exactly what he didn’t want to end up talking about, and that meant it was time for the conversation to end.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he ends up saying, surprising himself with his honesty. He retreats more into himself, folding his hands into the long sleeves of Ace’s shirt. Ace doesn’t say anything for a long time, and he doesn’t do anything aside from turning to stare at the space above the steering wheel.

“Will you teach me how to drive?” Sabo says suddenly, surprising himself again. It’s not what he meant to say, but it wasn’t exactly untrue anymore, and he needed a way to save the interaction before their entire night was ruined.

Ace’s lips twitch, like he’d thought about smiling and then decided against it. He huffs. “Sure,” he says, and his tone is slightly above monotone. “We can start tomorrow.”

Before Sabo can reply, Ace opens his door and leaves. It’s a long moment before Sabo follows him.

Despite their . . argument -if it could even be called that- and possibly because of what had happened earlier that day, Ace still burrows close to Sabo at the end of the night. Where Sabo had been hesitant, Ace had been eager, pulling him into a vice grip like he was afraid Sabo would take off in the middle of the night. It took a bit of squirming to get him to loosen his hold any, but even then he only sunk lower, pressing his head into Sabo’s torso. 

One hand wound around his neck, and the other held steady over his hip, against his back. Sabo breathes out a low sigh and reaches up to cradle Ace’s head through his hair, carding through the soft strands for a moment before settling.

At least he knew Ace’s hurt was outweighed by his worry, otherwise they wouldn’t be like this.


End file.
